Eye of the Beholder
by QTgal0309
Summary: Gianna might seem like your average teenage girl, but she’s everything but. Gianna is the daughter of Batman and Wonder woman and her life is anything but ordinary. Not only that, but she has a secret of her own…
1. Chapter 1

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Please note that this was done without a beta reader. I just wanted people to get a feel for the storyline and if they'd be interested. Then after, I'll find someone to edit for me who would enjoy helping me with the story! Oh and I might change the title too. Thanks for understanding (:

_Disclaimer: I'm only borrowing a few of the characters from the great Janet Evanovich, I created some along the way as well. The borrowed characters might seem slightly out of character to the original; but that's only because their now older, but overall I tried to stay true to the character as if this were to actually happen..._

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**Eye of the Beholder**

_A tale of Batman and Wonder Woman's offspring_

I know this is going to sound corny and completely cliché', but….I see dead people.

No I'm not one of those really weird gothic chicks, who wear all black and are obsessed with watching _The Sixth Sense_. In fact I hate that movie, and if you want to talk cliché, well theses a good example. I guess to understand were I'm coming from you'd have to go to the beginning.

You see I was destined to be part of an 'abnormal' family. My dad having been this mysterious mercenary, and my mother being the famous Trenton Bombshell Bounty Hunter. They fell in love and of course were too stubborn to act on it. Eventually, after many apprehensions, kidnappings, stalkers, and B&E's later—they finally pulled their heads out of their asses and got together. As you can observe, my cards were already played out for me and my wacky family.

So here I am now, 16-years-old with two older obnoxious brothers, along with a handful of ex-special forces soldiers as uncles (with really strange nicknames).

Don't get me wrong now, I love these people to death, but they all can be a little over-bearing and I can only handle so much testosterone at once.

These are the times when my mother and I bond the most. She is as lively as ever, but she can even get a little burned out from all the ruckus. One way we bond is in our taste of music. We both like our alternative rock, and every now and then we like to bump up the bass in one of our many cars, and cruise. We'll drive around for hours and get lost in the music.

Sometimes it's nice having a mother like her; she's easy to talk to and she has dad wrapped around her finger. That comes in handy when I miss curfew or get caught skipping (not that I do that anymore or anything…), she usually backs me up which leaves me stuck with her wrath instead (which isn't anything compared to dads).

My name is Gianna Ella-Marie Manoso. I come from a Cuban-Italian-Hungarian family, and we couldn't be prouder. I'm told I get my gift of _seeing dead people _from my Cuban great-grandma Rosa, and an intermixing of my Hungarian Gypsy heritage. Both my parents seem to have some what of a _sixth sense _as well_ (_or as my mother calls it a_Spidey-sense)_. They both _know _when the other is in the room and have a really good keen grasp on human nature.

My family runs and co-owns Rangeman Security, which has evolved into more then just security and skip-tracing these days. Now that my brothers are 'legal'—meaning they can carry a gun—we now have more family involvement which has really broadened our work load and specialty. Dad is still the security expert and his men do most of the field work.

Mom and I usually are the ones doing stakeouts and people searches. Rangeman is not limited to what we partake in; clients pay for a service and as long as it's legal (mostly), we'll do it.

My brothers and I were familiar with a gun before we even reached kindergarten. We also know three forms of self-defense, all of which my mother wasn't pleased with. All of us children have what you could call the 'ghetto fabulous' look due to our street credibility from our father, along with our slightly off set Cuban complexion. You could declare us as wealthy, but even with all the luxury and such; we try to live a modest lifestyle.

My family and I all have an equal sense of value and worth. We all are made up of the same moral code and live up to its standards.

My oldest brother; Carlos (named after my dad), is almost an exact replica of our father. A set of bulging biceps, the oodles of washboard abs, and the lady-killer mocha latte eyes. The only set back is the dark head of curls he inherited from our mother. Carlos's personality is also similar to our fathers. He's reserved, street savvy, and very athletic.

My other brother Carson is a mix of both parents. He has the profound chocolate brown eyes, but his form is more limber then Carlos's. He is what you call the charmer. He has a witty comeback for everything, and he can talk himself out of any detention. He keeps his dark hair straight like our fathers and dresses more on the edgy side; as if he were ready to rock out at a rock concert. This is a trait we both share—a love of rock—but it can be slightly annoying when I find him raiding my closet (and he's not gay…not even remotely). Who needs an annoying sister when you have him?

Then there's the youngest of all three kids… me. I guess you could say I have the unique looks of the bunch; wide crystal-blue eyes with brunette curly brown hair. I have my father's thick eyelashes and facial structure with my mother's poutylips and her button nose. To say the least, I certainly give multicultural a new meaning.

I was currently lying in bed, awakened from my nightmare. It left me feeling locked in my own body with no way out. I kept seeing their faces and they would not let me escape them. They captivate me. I felt haunted by their emptiness and need for justice. Their needs became my need, yet I had no way to seek them their fulfillment.

Almost everyday since I can remember, my day starts off this way. You would think over time I'd become accustom to this, but in reality it just seems to build on; leaving me with an unsettling futility.

I threw the covers back and headed over to my bathroom which was connected to my bedroom. My shakes begin to settle and I am able to gain better control of my movements. I reached the sink and splashed some water on my face and looked up at myself in the mirror.

Why do they come to me? What is it about me that they feel they can confide in? There is nothing special about me, and I certainly didn't ask for this. Tonight though the dream was different. This last one was unlike the previous ones.

I look over to my clock on the nightstand.

4:30 am

Oh joy…I've made it passed 3:00 am, my usual disturbance time. I've grown accustom to going to bed so early with all my early-bird wake-up calls. Typically I'll try to fall back asleep, but it's usually a lost cause.

Today I think I'll just get a jump start on my day. It's Friday and that means tomorrow is the weekend! I live for the weekends.

I creep across the hall to keep from waking the family. I notice dad's office light is on and so I walk over to it.

I push the door open to find dad typing away on his lap top. He looks up to see me standing in the doorway.

"_Buenos dias __querida_…I see you made it past 3 today" he pointed out.

I let out a sigh and walk over to his desk and plop down in the adjoining chair. Mornings usually start off this way. Dad is usually catching up on paper work or preparing for his morning workout, and I usually join him. Today I wasn't in the mood for either. This last dream really disturbed me because it didn't involve the usual guilt it pulled from me. Today I felt this anticipation that followed, and I didn't know what the message was.

Dad stopped with his typing and closed the lap top.

"Another dream?" he asked. I nod my head. "You want to talk about it?"

I take a deep inhale of air, and closed my eyes, concentrating on the dream.

"This one was different dad" I began. I opened my eyes to find him focused on me. His face was blank, which guarded his thoughts. This pisses my mother off, and makes us kids nervous when we don't know what he's contemplating.

My voice had a slight quiver to it, which I assumed to be part of the side effect of my nightmare.

"This one I dreamt about wasn't dealing with the deceased. It was like I…I was reliving someone else's experience. I felt this overwhelming need to do something. Like this anticipating need of fulfillment" I said, trying to explain to the best to my ability.

Dad's eyebrows were drawn together in thought; his arms folded against his broad chest while leaning back in his seat. The lines by his eyes were defined with age, but overall he didn't look a day over forty.

"Hmmm….you sure it's not just your anxiety over finals next week? This doesn't fall under the usual itinerary" he said.

_Itinerary?_ _Dad…he's such a man of structure_. I thought, while rolling my eyes. I was about to speak when mom peeped in through the door way.

"You coming back to bed" she asked dad, unaware I was in the room. She was wearing nothing but a sheet and had the look of recently-been-satisfied.

I gave an inward shiver. I admire that my parents are so deeply in love, but the idea of them doing the deed made me feel nauseated.

Noticing my presence, mom hid herself behind the door; blush creeping up her checks.

"Oh, Gianna!—I didn't see you there" she exclaimed bashfully. My face must have had a look of horror because dad let out a small amused chuckle.

"I'll meet you there babe, go back to bed" dad replied, nodding off to mom. Mom gave a two finger wave and turned back towards their bedroom.

I cleared my throat hoping to create a distraction. Dad was still smiling off into space and I was almost tempted to just send him off to join mom. But I really needed to vent.

"So…" I trailed off trying to get him back on track. He looked back over at me and his face became serious again.

"Do you need to go visit _Abuela_ Rosa?" he asked.

Grandma Rosa is who I generally talk to when I have these sorts of _problems_. Thing is, she'll bombarded me with the same spiel on how this is _my_ job to take on and it was a 'gift' that I was _destined_ to use. I can only handle so much of her lecture.

No, I was in need of some comfort and the best place to seek that is at Grandma Plum's house.

Grandma Plum is my version of _Betty Crocker._ She can whip up any dish that will have your taste buds fulfilled. She always has that spoon full of sugar that drives away any discomfort I have. Baking is that medicine that always cures and Grandma Plum delivers.

"You know what, I think I'll just stop by Grandma Plums this afternoon," I told dad. He gave me a slight raise of the eyebrow in question before responding.

"It's your funeral" he answered bemused, shaking his head in disbelief.

He just doesn't understand…

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	2. Chapter 2

_Just a small warning on adult language here…not too bad, just thought I'd warn you! Oh and once again, I did not use a beta reader. I will get to that though…_

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After my 'chat' with dad, I decided to blow off some tension at our gym; located on the basement level.

My family and I (this includes the 'Merry Man'— or so as my mom dubbed them) all live in a 7 story apartment/business duplex. This is not the original Rangeman building that started here in Trenton. This new building is slightly upgraded now that we kids are involved.

We all love living here and figured why bother buying a house on the outskirts of Trenton when you end up spending most of your time at the apartments anyway. So thus, my father upgraded into a bigger better building.

By bigger and better I mean that the staff apartments now branch into a two story rooming, with more facilities available. We still have the gun range, holding cells, and gym. But now there's an added pool (located by the gym in the basement), game room (which also holds the _virtual_ gun range—thanks to mother who has a gun phobia), and a much bigger control room.

But the real favorable detail would be our lavish penthouse apartment located on the entire 7th floor. The penthouse consist of four bedrooms, five bathrooms, a dinning room, a kitchen (one that Rachel Ray would be jealous of), one family den, a formal sitting room, an office/library, and a sun room that leads onto a balcony platform.

Let's just say dad went a little overboard on the spending. It was that and his obsession with cars that my father really seems to spend his money on. Now, I'm not a big car person, but that's only because that gene was split between my two brothers—none was left over for me. Guess it's a guy thing eh?

I had now finished my morning jog on the treadmill, when the 'uncles' strolled in.

"Hey there Baby Gi!" Uncle Santos called over to me. Baby Gi is what they guys have been calling me since…well since I was a baby. I smiled up at them from my bent over position—trying to catch me breath.

"You gunna to do some sparring with us today girl?" Uncle Cal asked when he reached my side. I straitened up from my bent over position.

"Not today boys. I'll be at Grandma Plum's after school—guess I'll have to kick your butt's some other time" I said, now making my way to the elevator. I heard a chorus of deep masculine chuckles as I made my way onward.

After showering, I dressed and started working on my hair—at least to the best of my ability. I squirted some gel into my palm and rubbed it between my hands. Noticing something was just a little too sticky I stuck a sample of the 'gel' to my tongue.

Honey…

Just as I'd suspected.

One of the negative side affects of having brothers. They tend to think that placing honey or other sorts in my necessities is 'funny'. Oh boy was I going to kill them!

I wiped the 'gook' off on my robe sleeves and headed toward their bedrooms. I suspected it was probably Carson who would go to such immature measure, so I went to his room first.

I opened the door and found him still fast asleep. I looked over to his clock and saw it was just past 6 o'clock.

_Perfect time for a wake-up call_, I thought.

I grabbed his water bottle sitting on the edge of his headboard, unscrewed the top and began to poor the water on him bit by bit.

He started to fidget and I began to increase my water quantity. His eyes shot open when I began to pour towards the southern reigns and that's when I full out dumped the rest of the water onto him.

"What the fuck!" he shouted, throwing back the blankets.

I took off running, knowing he would be close on my heels. I rounded the corner and was headed towards the living room when I felt my feet being pushed from under me.

Before I knew it, Carson had me pinned beneath him, and I was struggled to break free.

"What the hell was that all about brat!" he all but yelled down to me. He had my arms pinned by my head and was putting all his pressure forward to keep them there. This gave me leverage for my legs.

I snaked them around his neck and pulled him back, releasing my arms in the process. I quickly got back to my feet and got in position for an attack.

Carson rose to his feet and immediately charged at me. This showed he was very angry—you never charge at someone or make the first move. It instigates your guard to go down and you give the opponent the upper deck—Carson, as well as the rest of the Manoso family, knew this—but he was too blinded by his temper.

Knowing what was coming for me; I whirled out of the way at the last moment and tripped him over my shin. He crashed to the ground, causing the room to shake with the impact.

Being quick on his feet, Carson wrestled me to the ground, causing me to fall onto my knees.

I pulled him into a head lock and he pulled me backwards. Before either of us knew it, we were both in a struggle of each other's wrath and were not aware of our outside surroundings.

"That's enough you two!" I heard Carlos's voice bellow.

We carried on as if we didn't hear him.

"Fine then, I'll go get dad" Carlos threatened.

Carson and I immediately freeze; both our heads turn to Carlos who had a leering 'gotcha' smirk on his face.

"You wouldn't" Carson whimpered while clutching me in a scuffle to break free.

"Oh, I think you both know I would—there's nothing dad loves more then to drill his own _niños" _Carlos sneered. I glared.

As if sharing the same thought, both Carson and I jump up and tackle Carlos to the ground. All three of us were now in sibling combat.

I had one brother by the arms, holding him back, while the other had a strong hold on my hair, causing me to yelp out. We all continued this brutality with no drawbacks, and I was beginning to wonder if I'd walk of this with a full set of hair.

It wasn't until a clearing of a familiar throat that we finally halted in place. All of us grew tense; looking anywhere but the other presence in the room.

Dad.

And from the feel of it, he wasn't too pleased to see his children play rough house so early in the morning…on a school day at that.

Carlos (being as stuck-up as he is), was the first to rise to his feet and stand at attention. I chanced a glance to peek at dad to find him nod in approval at Carlos.

"Suck up" I mumble up at Carlos. He didn't meet my glare; just continued to look strait ahead—expressionless—as if he suddenly turned to stone.

I rolled my eyes and began to pull myself up to stand next to Carlos. Carson follows and we all three now stood at attention.

Dad has this tendency to think that if we are aligned he could easily intimidate us and get one of us to 'wise up'. I always have a hard time with this—their expressions are just so serious and I always end up biting my lip off to keep from laughing in hysteria.

On one occasion I did slip and I just couldn't control my laughter. Dad, not seeing what was so funny, decided I was the guilty one. Which in fact I really was, but that was not his assumption to make!

So here we all were, put to the test to be on trial. In dad's eyes we were all guilty until proven innocent—not the other way around. I meet dad's 'look' and rolled my lips in to keep from smirking.

"Something funny Gianna?" Dad asked in a commanding voice.

"Just your face" I mumbled softly to myself.

"What was that?" Dad asked sharply. I pulled myself together and meet his stare.

"No sir" I answered promptly.

"I thought so…" he said to me, then turning to over look the boys. "Now, is there a reason I found you all gouging around the floor like mutts?" We stood there motionless, knowing there was more to come. "Since you all seem to have a fondness for the floor, then perhaps you'd all like to scrub it til' it shines. I'd hate to have Ella take away your _fun _by doing this herself." He finished.

We all did an inward grown, and I kissed my weekend of R&R goodbye.

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_Please leave a review so I know what you think. Please nothing mean, I don't mind constructive criticism. More soon?_


	3. Chapter 3

I arrived at school with wet hair and a sore ankle from my morning mishap. Needless to say, you can guess how my mood was.

It didn't help that Carson refused to give me a ride to school today. I had no car of my own—dad wouldn't allow us kids to drive his 'Rangeman' vehicles until we have 'proven' ourselves. So, I had resorted to begging Carlos to take me. He agreed only if I talked dad into realizing that he wasn't responsible for the 'mishap' this morning. I rolled my eyes and reluctantly agreed.

After being dropped off at school by Carlos I had quite a bit of attention drawn to me. Carlos had graduated last year, but everyone knows the sound of his bike rolling into the school lot. So many girls offered to have helmet hair if it meant they could ride on the back of Carlos's bike. Of course the bike had nothing to do with the girl's need to ride the bike—it all had to do with Carlos and his aura of mysterious bad boy.

Funny thing is, between my two brothers, Carson is the bad boy.

Carlos is more conservative, which is what gives him that mystery persona. Carson on the other hand thrives off his extrovert image. It's what he believes sets him apart from the Manoso clan. What he didn't realize is that is what makes us even more alike. We are the offspring of the man who created mystery. That in itself is what makes us different. No one knows the real story behind us; there all just curious about us—how we come into all this money, all the cars—in reality people see us as a whole different light; making us seem superior to everyone else.

Dragging myself to the school entrance I looked around for Ronnie and Jessica; my two best friends. Students wisped by—eager to get to class before the first hour bell. As usual, I was late which is probably why I couldn't find my friends. I decided to forgo the search for them and just head to my locker.

After shoving my book bag in and retrieving my books for class, I headed off to History.

As usual, I was late.

I knocked on the door to my history class (Mr. Helmer locks it just for this kind of purpose…swell guy I know) and waited for someone to let me in.

By then my hair had dried, but I had a feeling it was a frizz ball. I exhaled in frustration just as the door opened to an annoyed looking Mr. Helmer.

His glasses were tiled on the tip of his nose with his sharp eyes looking down from me. He was about 6'7'' and towered over me.

"Miss Manoso, nice of you to finally join us. Please do take a seat" Mr. Helmer instructed. I quickly zipped past him and made my way to the back where my seat was. Of course I had a set of 29 cynical eyes following me as I made my way to my seat; I only hoped my shirt wasn't transparent.

Once seated, I let out a breath of air and leaned back in my seat. Mr. Helmer continued with his lecture and before I knew it his idyllic voice had me drifting off in a slumber.

I snapped back to reality when I felt someone blowing in to my ear. I swiftly sat up in my seat to find the classroom empty with only an annoyed Mr. Helmer giving me an irritated glare. He was kicked back into his chair with his arms crossed against his chest. I looked up to tell-off the creep who blew in my ear, but instead found nothing but a wall in my line of vision. I looked back at Mr. Helmer who now had an amused look upon his face.

It couldn't have been him, but there was no one else in the room that could have. He was all the way across the classroom and clearly he would have seen the person responsible.

I was about to inquire who when he spoke before I had the chance.

"Perhaps you should go to your next class before you are tardy once again. And may I also add that I am seeing a pattern in your behavior here—do I need to call in your parents Miss Manoso?"

"No sir" I answered and began collecting my materials. I scrammed to the door and about collided with my friend Ronnie.

Ronnie was a lanky Japanese-American, and wouldn't take crap from no one. Though he may look flimsy, underneath it all he was built like an ox. He masters in some weird form of martial arts, and over the years people have learned not to mess with him, for he is known as the 'Kong-fu' kid. He's got to be one of the coolest people I know. His funky shag-like hair, down to his holes in clad jeans—there isn't a single part of him that doesn't scream rebel Guess that's why I love him so much…

"Whoa there Gigi…in a hurry?" Ronnie said, grabbing onto my forearms for support.

"Yeah, you could say that" I replied, looking back to Mr. Helmer. Ronnie looked over my shoulder to make out where my distraught was coming from. Seeing Mr. Helmer with his stern look, Ronnie cautiously looked back over to me.

"Ya…no kidding" he concurred. I nodded in agreement.

We walked over to my locker to find our other friend, Jessica, leaning up against it.

"It's about time you should up" Jessica said to us as we approached. I spun my comb and was unsuccessful and tried another three times before Ronnie took over. I sighed deeply. This day can't get any worse at least. Welcome to my chaotic life—please enjoy the show….

"So I have this feeling that Mr. Livingston is doing 'random' locker checks today" Jessica revealed. Guess I spoke too soon, my day was going down the drain, and there was no stopping it.

Mr. Livingston was our principal here at Trenton High—and let me tell ya, he was one stickler. A stickler who despises the Manoso's and will go to any length to provide hell for us. This whole 'locker' check was just an excuse to invade our privacy and with the added disliking to the Manoso clan (mainly my brother Carson), he was valid enough to find something to call out on. I hope my brother wasn't idiotic enough to bring anything worth getting suspended over (I'm sure just because your legal doesn't prohibit you to bring a gun to school—no matter if it was just for _safety_ precautions).

After shoving my materials into my locker, I slam it closed and abruptly walk to my next class. I can feel my friends curious eyes follow me as I leave them in my dust. I felt bad seeing how it wasn't their fault, but I needed to get away—I was just so frustrated.

The day went by (locker check free), and by the end of the day my balloon continued to deflate. I couldn't wait to go over to Grandma Plum's. I had Carson drop me off after I all but begged him to do so. Seems that my warning of a could-be locker check had left him grateful to me.

Walking into Grandma Plum's house I'm immediately swarmed with memories of my childhood. Freshly baked cookies and floral wall paper; it's what makes a home feel fresh and warm. Not that my family didn't provide that feeling for me, it's just that Rangeman can be a little extravagant and it's hard to seek peace and quite.

I found Grandma in the kitchen (go figure), as she was mixing up a batter of something sweet. I smiled in thought. Seems she was expecting me.

"Hello dear" she called out to me. I reached her side to lean in and kiss her check.

"Hello Grams" I greeted.

We fell into mindless chit chat, and 3 batches of cookies later, my restlessness was cured. I had a bag full of cookies in tow to bring home to mom…she'd never forgive me if I didn't bring her home some of the goods we baked up.

After having Grandpa Plum drop me off at Rangeman, I made my way down to the gym floor. We had several rooms adjoining the gym level. Locker rooms that contained showers and a sauna, a pool included with a spa, a gun range, and my favorite: the meditation room.

As humorous as you might find it, the meditation room can serve for many purposes. Not just for centering yourself, but when you have three young kids who are bouncing off the walls, this room becomes the child's worst nightmare as it developed into the _timeout room_. Now that I'm older, I find myself using it more and more. Dad likes to meditate before he begins his day, and when he is winding down from his day. I find I rely on it. With all the added stress of my horrific dreams and such, this is my relief to it all.

I walk into the room to find it empty. Immediately I feel the ease flow through me as the energizing hum fills me. The décor of the room is illuminating with a deep purple accenting the walls forming a Zen within the room. The aroma has a musky earth sent, filling your senses with a stimulating tranquil. A single pillow-cushion lies in the center of the room. I dim the lights and light up a candle and incense, and soon the smoke pervades the room.

Reaching the pillow, I sit cross legged and straiten my back. Inhaling deeply I begin to count backwards from 60. My mind begins to swarm in a stream of ease, I feel it pulsate with in myself—scattering throughout me. A calm wash over me and all I know, feel, and sense is the calm; it radiates within me. I sit in complete nothingness, allowing this sensation to overtake me. I no longer am attached to awareness; I become one with the essence of the vibrations.

My eyes then snap open as I feel a sense of anther being. My focus landed on the eyes of another; my father. His sharp gaze meets mine. He appears to be in deep thought as he leans against the doorway. I pull myself back to the awareness of reality. The feel of realism seeps back into me. Though my uneasiness is no longer present, I can't help but feel the impending spiel from my father.

Moments went by and neither one of us cracked. I, being the impatient one broke first.

"Okay dad, I give…what it is?"

He inched his eyebrow in question, but other wise gave no heed in my falter. It is so hard to read this man; I don't know how mom puts up with him.

"Your friends are waiting up stairs" he said.

This time I was the one to raise my eyebrow in question. "Why? And why are they waiting upstairs…you barley ever let us have guest up there" I asked bewildered. I suddenly became weary that something might be amiss for dad to allow such intrusions. "Are they okay…is something wrong?!" my voice gave away my panic.

"They are fine _querida_—they're here for you in fact" he paused before going in for the kill. "Is there something you need to tell me? Your friends seemed pretty adamant about seeing you."

I gave no indication of being any way surprised by this. Truthfully, I myself was curious as to why they would show up here. They must have something rather important to tell me….

"Well dad, I'm not sure why they are here either. And no, I don't have anything to tell you" I said to him as I exited the room.

"You sure, you seem to be a little tense" he called after to me. I answered him over my shoulder with a shrug.

"Just school stuff".

When I got to the seventh floor I paused before entering. I took a deep breath and waited for some kind of vibe. I didn't sense any restlessness or urgency so I figured it wasn't something tragic. Yet there was a feel of qualm in the air.

I entered to find Ronnie Wei and Jessica Galager sitting on the couch. They both looked at ease, but when then saw me they sat up right.

"Hey…they you are. Gunna walk out on us again, or do you want to talk about it?" Jessica said dryly to me. I sighed and plopped down on the chair next to them.

"What's this all about guys" I asked.

"You had us worried, you avoided us like the plague. I'm not use to you shutting us out. What's going on now, you've been like this for the past week." Jessica proclaimed.

Her eyebrows were knit together by strain, which made her look distressed. It wasn't a good look for someone who was naturally so free-spirited. Her eyes were outlined in thick black eyeliner—as it was always applied so thickly, accentuating her brilliant green eyes. Jess and I have been friends since grade school after I punched a kid who tried lifting up her skirt. The kid was a Morelli (go figure) who at the time was three grades a head of us. It only took one punch to the nose, and a lot of blood to show boy Morelli the lay of the law. Needless to say when dad got the call of my misdoing, he wasn't too infuriated that I drew blood from the spawn of a Morelli. Since then, Jess and I have been glued to the hip; having each other's backs all the way through.

I got back to thinking of the question at hand. I realized I have been a little distant, not so much dealing with exams like I've been letting on. Over the past week I've been getting these dreams like the previous night. It left me aggravated and I tend to isolate myself from others when I'm feeling that way. I feel helpless and alone—that no one understands.

I remain silent, not sure what to say or where to start.

"Are you having the dreams again Gigi?" Ronnie asked; who up until now remained silent.

I slid my gaze over to him. He must have seen my inner conflict, having dealt with this before. Surprisingly enough, quite a few people knew of this ability I have. No, I don't go around and spread the word of my 'wondrous' gift. It's more of a need of comfort from those that I need it from. Those who I can confined in.

"No, it's nothing," I lied, not even giving them a fib or explanation. They both raised their eyebrows but didn't further their probing. I looked down at my hands not wanting to look into their knowing eyes. They both knew I was lying, but as I mentioned before, no one understands so there is nothing they can do or say.

Pushing my feelings aside, I start to feel an arousing sense of anxiety. One of them is hiding something from me, though their body language gives nothing off. I look up to meet there stare.

We all study one another as if trying to read one another's mind.

"Okay, spill it—what's going on" I finally ask. They meet my gaze expectantly. Perhaps they were both in on it. Either way, I knew what had to be said wasn't going to be pleasant.

Jess swallows hard and meets my stare. Her eyes begin to water and she grows pale. I feel my heart begin to accelerate in distress. Something is wrong. Jess isn't the type to get all sappy eyed.

"I…I think I'm pregnant" she blurts out on a whim. Her voice was shallow, not hiding the fear she was trying to withhold.

And there drops the bomb.

The room becomes eerie quiet making me feel awkward. She stares off into space as if she were trying to escape herself. I grab onto her hands and lean forward so she can't look away from me.

"Jess" I said, trying to get her attention before continuing. "…are you sure? Who's the father?"

She still refused to look up at me. When she spoke her voice was sullen that held a slight quiver to it.

"That's the thing—I don't know who the father is. I was at that party and someone must have spiked my drink because I don't remember a thing" Jessica explained. Her eyes were red from crying and a single tear dripped down. She swiped it away before more could follow in its path. Jess was never the kind of girl to show her weakness…even in a time of weakness. She straitened her back and took an inhale of breath showing her strong composure. "My parents are going to be heartbroken Gi. When they ask who the father is…"she trailed off leaving out the obvious. She began again with conviction in her voice. "I…I don't even know where to begin or start." She paused, taking another inhale of air before continuing. "I need your help" she said looking up at me.

We stared at one another for a moment before anyone said or did anything. I looked up at Ronnie who remained motionless from where a sat at on the couch. He was a very outspoken guy who from time to time finds his mouth run himself over with his smart-aleck comebacks. To see him sitting here silently shows to me he either guilty of having allowed Jess to do this to herself, or pissed at the guy who did this to her. Being the _intuitive _that I am, I can practically feel the steam of anger radiating off his skin. I turn my head back to Jess and give her a nod.

"I'll see what I can do" I told her. As much as I wanted to hug and comfort Jess, I knew she would only back away from it. She isn't the type to wallow in self-pity.

I led them to the elevators to see them out. It would take me a while to process what had been discussed, and how to handle this new situation at hand. I knew that Jess would want this to be private for as long as possible, and I'd see what I could do without my father's involvement. Either way I wasn't so familiar with drugs, and I thought the best way to start was to pick apart dad's brain. Where would one find these drugs and who would have them? Dad would know these answers—I never ask how or why he knows, but I tell myself he is just a well-rounded guy.

I then made my way to the monitors to talk to the men in charge.

"Hey, have you guys seen my dad anywhere" I asked Cal and Woody.

"You dad's got a meeting at six…it's five-forty five now" Cal replied.

"Do you know where he would be then?" I asked.

"Well he normally preps before-hand in his office…try checking there Gi" Woody said. I thanked them and went over to dad's main office. It was located on the main floor where the other conference rooms were held. As I approached the office I noticed the door was shut and I could hear two people arguing"

"…what do you mean your not going? It has been two weeks since you've come! I just assumed you would be going this week seeing how you're in town _for once_ this Friday" the first voice said, who just happened to be my mother. I narrowed in on the door to get a better listen.

"Babe, I think after 17 years of marriage and three grandkids later your mother would be a little understanding if we didn't show to every Friday night dinner. I think she would agree that our evenings could be spent _elsewhere_" dad all too slyly replied.

"Oh really!" mom said, her voice reaching new heights. Dad didn't answer but I could imagine him leaning back in his chair showing mom his cat-ate-the-canary smile. Not replying and acting smug only seemed to infuriate mom more. Seems dad liked seeing mom this way, all ruffled up…gross as it sounds I think it turns him on.

Mom let out a huff of frustration. "You are so impossible!"

"Oh really?" dad mocked, causing another shriek from mom. Dad let out a chuckle. "Ahhh, babe…. _Usted me hace loco, mi amor"_ (you make me crazy, my love). The room grew silent for a moment before mom calmed down.

"That's not fair" she said.

"What's not babe" dad asked, already knowing the answer.

"You know I can't resist you when you speak Spanish to me"

"And why is that?" dad asked, not sounding curious bur rather amused.

"Must be the way it rolls off your tongue…reminds me of _other_ things" mom answered seductively.

I all but gagged from what she was really implying. I backed away from the door and gave myself a few minuets to collect myself. Figuring this went on long enough; I twisted the door knob and pushed my way through.

"Hey dad I have a favor to…." I stopped in mid sentence—the words stunned in place. I stood in shell-shock as I watched my mother gather herself from dad's lap…shirtless. Luckily she wasn't facing me, so I didn't have the frontal view.

"Gianna, haven't I told you to knock" dad scolded while handing mom her shirt. I'm not able to recall whether I was told to knock, for I'm too withdrawn to remember.

I blink and turn my head away. This is getting to be ridiculous! You'd think there sex drive would dwindle down over the years and three kids later. But nope, it only seemed to spark the flame rather then dwindle it.

Mom finished adjusting herself and made her way out the door with a wily smirk placed on her face. I looked over to dad to see him grinning like he just was given a piece of cake (that is if he liked cake). I rolled my eyes and plopped down on his office chair.

"So are you really not going to go to Friday night dinner?" I asked dad. He gave me an inquiring glance before answering.

"Eavesdropping are we?" he asked. I gave him a smile.

"You love to rile her up don't you" I asked. He didn't answer but I did see a slight curve of a smile. We sat in comfortable silence as thoughts drifted us off task. I remembered my reason for coming hear and thought I better just get on with it.

"Uh, dad…out of morbid curiosity, what kind of drugs can be slipped into a drink and cause someone to be unconscious?" I asked, trying to sound nonchalant. He didn't answer me right away, his eyes showing nothing. I knew he wanted to pry into my life as to why I am not like normal girl teenagers who spend all their time at the mall with their friends discussing make-up and boys. But at the same time I think it prides him to see me so different then the typical norm.

He took a deep breath and exhaled before answering, as if he was reluctant to answer. "One too many. Why do you ask?" he said, leaning forward on his elbows.

"Well let's just say that a party got a little too out of hand" I replied looking down at my lap. I could feel his eyes narrow at me in question.

"I'm assuming you weren't at any such party and that this is some sort of hypothetical question" he inquired.

"Got it in one dad"

"Hmmm—seems my fatherly instincts strike again. Let me ask you this: I'm I going to have to _take care of _someone who attended this party?"

As practical as he is, I knew the real meaning behind his words: who do I need to eliminate and where do I need to bury the body. Yes, he plays it off as just joking around, but there have been a few occasions that I wasn't so sure he was just _kidding_ around.

My father can be a _very _scary guy and I'm lucky I haven't had to witness that side of him before.

"Hypothetically speaking…remember dad. Stay on track here" I so smoothly replied. He eyed my skeptically, trying to get down to the real meaning of my asking. I'm sure he knew I wasn't at this party, but he was probably curious as to who I was asking for.

He let out a sigh and leaned back into his chair stapling his fingers in thought. "Well let's see…there are the Benzodiazepines, which act as sedatives—and there are several drugs that categoraize under this. Most common being Rohypnol or known on the streets as Roofies—they come in the form as a pill or tablet. It leaves you to be confused and have motion difficulty. It's odorless and tasteless so it would be unrecognizable if slipped into a drink. Another popular is Gamma-hydroxybutyrate…or GHB as I'm sure you've heard. This has basically the same effects as the first, but has a faster reaction rate and comes in liquid form". He paused allowing me to process this.

"Another common insensitive is Ketamine—Special K if you will. This drug comes in liquid, tablet, or powder form...allowing it to be snorted or smoked. Using this drug will cause numbness, disorientation, hallucinations, loss of consciousness…you name it".

I knew that if I didn't stop him now he'd continue all night. Sometimes I wondered where he learned all this from, but I figured I would be better off not knowing. I just wanted the basis understanding so I was set to go.

I arose from my seat. "Well…that was quite educational. You ever consider being a D.A.R.E officer? You'd be rather good at it" I said, making my way to the door to prevent any probing. "Okay, so I appreciate this and I'll see you up at seven" (meaning our penthouse).

I didn't wait for a reply, just scrambled my way out of there and up to the seventh dwelling.

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_I apologize if there were any grammar errors, I did not use a beta reader. I'll have to re-post again when I find someone to beta for me! Thanks, and please leave a review!_


	4. Chapter 4

_So I know it's been awhile...I'm sorry for that. I've been very busy and my muse was unattended for (: Hope you enjoy!_

_Same disclaimers as always_

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I slid my key fob into the apartment lock and let myself in. I was hungry and decided gorge myself before I started some homework.

Entering the kitchen, I found it to be already occupied.

"Hey hun" mom called. "I heard from the grapevine that your friends stopped by. Everything alright?" she greeted as I entered the kitchen and leaned up against the counter behind her. She was scooping out the fridge—probably hoping the 'dessert fairy' had left something behind. She popped her head up when she saw me holding the bag of brownies I had made at Grandma Plum's. She smiled like a child on Christmas morning.

"Oh ya sure" I replied nonchalantly, as I handed her the bag.

Besides from the fact that Jessica is pregnant from a rape that was caused by someone spiking her drink, everything was_ peachy-keen_. Mom didn't need to know this—not yet at least. I still needed to get down to the bottom of things first.

"Right on" she replied, poring us a glass of milk to go with our brownies.

We made our way to the dinning table and divulged ourselves to the brownies we dunked in the milk. We wandered into mindless chitchat about our day. Her day dealt with skips she apprehended and endless file searches for Rangeman. Mom still tried to live out her glory days as if she were single and childless—having never given up her job as a part-time bounty hunter.

"So uh…what's for dinner" I asked when the brownies were gone. Mom looked at the now empty bag and slumped her shoulders.

"I'm not a very good mother am I?" she asked. I rolled in my lips to keep from smiling.

If only she knew just how terrific she was.

"Oh mother, now stop that"

"No really. What mother allows her daughter to eat half a dozen brownies before dinner? A dinner that her mother didn't even cook but has the maid take over for her?"

"To be honest mom, I wouldn't want anyone other then Ella to cook for us. No offense". She smiled nodding her head.

"Yeah…that's true" she answered agreeing. "But you have to admit—I do make a mean peanut-butter and olive sandwich"

We both laughed.

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I decided to get caught up on homework. I was about halfway through when I realized I still had my statistics to do. Gloom overtook me as I attempted to complete my assignment. Giving up after five minutes of staring at the paper, I shut the book in frustration.

I am not a math person, let me tell you. I figured I could pay Carson a visit. I'm sure he'd just love to do my night's assignment…not! But I imagine if I gave him a good price, he'd consider it.

Carson and I have what you would call a 'mutual benefit" relationship. You see he lacks skills in the whit and charm department, while I am lacking in my math logic skills. Plus, it helps when I never find my wallet empty and Carson can never seem to find his wallet.

About to reach the door, I sense an unfamiliar presence. I turn around swiftly looking around me. The hallway is dark and is loomed by a single lamp further down the hall. No one else seemed to be in the apartment that I knew of, other then Carson, and mom. So what is this other presence I feel?

I clear my head, realizing I am being paranoid, and then it occurred to me that I forgot my stat book. Turning around, I head back to my room when the faint sound of a feminine giggle stops me in my tracks. I turn to face towards Carson's room again when a thought hits me, and I head back to Carson's door.

I knocked rapidly on Caron's door for about 30 seconds before it was swung open by a flushed Carson. I brush aside him and make my way straight towards the closet.

"Hey! What the hell do you think you're doing…you can't just barge into my room with out my consent" Carson yelled after me.

Too late, I was already at the closet door before he could catch up to me. I swiftly opened the closet door to find none other than Angie Morelli; dressed down to her panties and bra.

By then Carson was at my side trying to push me away. I turned to him and gave him my 'your-in-deep-shit-look'.

"You can't just waltz in here when ever you damn well please Gianna. Mind your own damn business!" Carson spat. Angie looked down at her feet and shifted uncomfortable.

"Okay enough with the derogatory language bro. Do you have any idea what your doing!" I exclaimed. It was like he was purposely trying to recreate the _Romeo and Juliet_ tragedy of the feud between the _Capulets _and _Montages_. Our two families (Morelli's and Manoso's) are not meant to intermingle this way and it would not end well for either side of the families.

By this point Angie Morelli had found her shirt and was wiggling back into her jeans.

"How the hell did you even know about this?" Carson demanded none too subtly. I gave him my get real look.

"Come on like you don't know" I replied, hoping he'd fill in the blank. He bobbed his head in realization, and his face fell into irritation.

"Oh that's right. Your _deceased friends_ passed on the message" he added in mock tone. My eyes grew big with shock. He did not just say that aloud…with company in our approximately!

"Actually, if you must know…"

I was about to slam him back with a retort when Angie interrupted.

"Well as awkward as this was…I think I'll be leaving" she said in a sour manner. She began to walk towards the door, but Carson and I had jumped in front of her path; blocking her from the doorway.

"There's no way you can just walk out that door" I told her. She gave me an annoyed look and hesitantly looked over to Carson.

"She's right baby" he said to her, then continued. "Dad would not be too pleased with this, uh…situation"  
"Ya and I'm sure your father wouldn't approve of this either" I said to her. She nodded her head in agreement. Joe Morelli was not a force to be recon with.

"So what's the plan" she asked. I took a deep breath and gave her the 'cover' story.

"Were working on a project at school and you came to my house to do it. Say it's for…World Literature. You have that class right? I asked her. She nodded. "Okay good then. That's what we'll say and you'll let me do all the talking—you got that?" She nodded again. "Good".

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_Okay, well I hope to have more soon. I have the next chapter done; I'm just revising it a bit and want to start the next one. Let me know what you think!_


	5. Chapter 5

_~Here you are, the next chapter! No beta for this one either...sorry, but I just really wanted to post this. If it's really bad, I'll have someone edit it for me and I'll re-post it. _

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Chapter 5

            The dinner table was set and all eyes were on Angie.

            Dad had not yet come up from the offices, but it was only a matter of time. You could practically feel the tension radiating off from the table. Mom's eyes were huge as she waited in hesitation. She knew dad would not fall for this. He'd walk in to sit down and immediately know we were hiding something.

            We told mom our cover story, but one look in Angie's eyes told her otherwise. Who would honestly believe a Morelli would step into Rangeman headquarters to work on a 'school project'? It just didn't add up.

            The Manoso's and Morelli's—sure we knew the history: Mom and Joe Morelli, the childhood love birds. But in the end, mom chose dad (a Manoso), and for that reason the tension co-existed between the two families. I personally never had a problem with any of the Morelli's. Joe and his wife Judy (a paramedic), had four kids together: David the oldest at 19, Anthony and Angie were twins, they were my age—and then there was Lou, born as a surprise. He is only five and obviously is considered the 'baby' of the family. This was the Burg's Italian family at their best.

            And here we had one of them in our dinning room, sharing dinner with us. This was so not going to go over well. Angie just sat there looking down at her plate, the rest of us trying to look occupied. I was in the middle of buttering a role when I heard the keys jingle as they were thrown on the end table by the door. Dad was home. Everyone snapped their gaze to the kitchen entrance. No one appeared. Dad must be locking up his carried weapons in the safe. Mom attempted to pull our attention back to our food, but it was a lost cause. Looking casual was not going to lesson the awkwardness of the situation.

            We were all silent when the big dark force—my father—entered the room. He paused in the entryway as he took notice of his surroundings. Slowly I shifted my gaze up to meet his narrowed gaze directed at the intruder…uh, I mean guest.

            "Angie Morelli, nice to have you…join us" Dad calmly spoke. Angie lifted her gaze, shyly meeting his.

            "Thank-you sir, I enjoy being here" Angie replied, her burg manners at their best. Dad gave a single nod and shifted his gaze over to mom. She shrugged and turned her attention back to her food. Dad moved his gaze to rest upon his table of offspring. We three siblings shifted in our seats as if we were suddenly uncomfortable. I chanced a peek at dad as he began to take his seat next to mom. He leaned down and gave mom a quick kiss on the forehead before joining us. All of us held our breath as he took his seat.

            If you think running into your teacher at _Victoria's Secret_ would be awkward, that would be nothing compared to this. It wasn't the silence that was getting to me, it was the unsaid thoughts. I could practically see the questions formulating inside my dad's head. He had on his guarded expression—the blank face, as my mother calls it. No one could even guess as to what he was thinking. That _look _right there is what caused us kids—countless of times—to crack and daunt off into a confession. It was unnerving as hell.

            After the longest minuet of my life, someone finally spoke.

            "So…_honey_, how was your day?" mother asked. I rolled my eyes. My mother could not stand tension. I knew she would be the first to crack.

            Dad shifted his gaze to meet hers. "Fine," he replied simply, his voice holding no emotion. Mom bobbed her head encouraging him to go on. It was no use when dad was like this—it was almost like he was in 'robot' mode and could only spurt out one word at a time.

            Mom's face fell when he didn't carry on and she turned back to her plate—failing to make conversation. Dad, feeling bad for not complying with her attempt, dropped his stone look and melted as he gave a defeated sigh. "My day was fine babe, how was yours?" he asked her, his voice like velvet.

            All attention was set upon the ongoing conversation. Hoping that it wouldn't go astray and mingle into the current predicament—as to why Angie was here. But knowing my father that was unlikely—he'd ask, it was a given.

            Mom had just finished discussing about her day when dad's eyes slipped over to Angie. She swiftly adverted her eyes, staring down at her plate.

            "So Angie, what brings you to our neck of the woods?" dad so bluntly inquired.

            "Carlos!" mom snapped, smacking dad on the chest which had no effect on him. Everyone grew quit while waiting for Angie's reply. She swallowed nervously, looking almost as if she was going to cry. Mom was glaring at dad, but all of dad's attention was directed towards Angie. I figured that was my queue, so I spoke up.

            "Were working on a school project" I said. Dad snapped his gaze to me.

            "Oh really?" he inquired, sounding amused.

            "Yes" I answered adamantly. Dad raised an eyebrow as if questioning my answer. I stood my ground as I waited for more inquisitions.

            "What class?" he asked.

            "World Lit".

            "Uh-huh" he mumbled. I began to pinch my thigh to keep from squirming in my seat. Dad had a slight tilt in his lip, curving into a small smirk. "When's the project due?" he continued.

            I tried not to flinch or look away in thought (looking away was a sign of lying, and dad could detect that). "The date is not set yet" I replied. "Sometime next week I'm assuming" Dad nodded his head.

            He continued to stare me down waiting for me to squeal. I made the mistake to chance a look over to Carson. He was rigid in his seat, intently drawn to the conversation. Looking back at dad I realized he noticed my exchange with Carson.

            "Ahhh, I see," dad replied, reclining back in his chair, lifting his hands behind his head. He turned his interest to Carson. "Carson, want to explain why young Morelli is joining us tonight?"

            Carson had a sour look on his face, but I wasn't sure who it was directed at. I bit my lip as I realized we were once again caught in dad's trap. When Carson didn't respond, dad tipped forward into his seat, allowing his elbows to rest on the table as he stapled his fingers.

            "You want to explain why you had your sister lie for you?" Dad asked directly, with slight irritation in his voice. Carson continued to ignore him. Dad took a deep inhale of air, and then exhaled, causing his nostrils to give a slight flare.

            This wasn't going to end well.

            Dad became deathly quiet, and that's when you knew he was pissed, maybe even furious. At that point mom had begun to redirect dad by placing a soothing hand on his back and leaned into him.

            "Let it go my love, there just kids" she whispered in his ear. He looked intently into her eyes and held her gaze. Amazingly enough, mom's affect still worked with dad—it was if she flicked a switch, a switch only she could control. Dad's eyes flashed and in its place an adoration of love was displayed—shown only for my mother. The tension in the room dropped and we all began to breathe again.

            When dad turned his attention back to the table, all attention laid upon him.

            "Carson, take Angie home, but do not let her family see who dropped her off" dad instructed to Carson.

            Carson gave a single nod and stood from the table. He helped Angie out of her seat and they started for the exit. Before Carson was able to pass, dad grabbed a hold of his arm "Do not lie to me son…I would have rather you just let me know the truth then to have you betray me like that" dad calmly said to him. Carson looked down at the floor with a look of shame displayed upon his face. He slowly nodded his understanding and was then was released.

            I looked over at my other brother, Carlos, to find him shaking his head in annoyance as he continued to eat him meal. I could only imagine what he was thinking—our brother Carson always seemed to be the instigator between the three of us. Though it wasn't fair for him to drag us in with him, we always had each other's backs.

            I began to eat my meal placed in front of me when dad called to my attention.

            "Gianna, would you please go with them—make sure they actually make it there and not run off together". I smiled at the thought. I really didn't see them actually doing that—Carson is aware of dad's tracking devices. Nevertheless, I got the gist of dad's innuendo, but otherwise did not like the idea of being stuck between the two love birds by myself.

            "Only if Carlos comes with me" I answered, smiling over at Carlos. Carlos—for the first time tonight—looked up from his plate.

            "Oh come on now, that's ludicrous!" Carlos bellowed.

            I made a look of sensibleness over at dad. "I think not…besides dad, it'll give you and mom some alone time" I persuade, baiting the idea in front of him.

            Dad looked thoughtful for a moment, and then a mischievous little grin appeared on his lips. "Not a bad thought _querida_…"

            "Oh dad, come on now!" Carlos pleaded.

            "It's a done deal son," dad said, "take the Mercedes." He then reached into his pocket and tossed Carlos the keys. He knew it was Carlos's favorite and Carlos was just as fanatic about cars as he was. Carlos would take all the time in the world with this chance to drive the Mercedes—which then created plenty of _mom and dad_ 'alone' time.

            Carlos stood from his chair and threw his napkin down at his plate. He eyed me crossly as he stalked off towards the door. I bit my lip to keep from smirking—I love pestering my brothers. Dad shook his head watching the interaction. "It's not good to tango with them like that Gianna, you know that," dad said from his chair.

            "Yeah yeah," I replied, turning to catch up with Carlos.

            We were all in the car then, ready to go. Carlos was driving, Carson was in the passenger seat, and Angie and I were squished together in the back. It was silent as we pulled out of the parking garage and drove out into the street. It was dark with nothing but the street lights to leave an illuminating glow as we cruised down town.

            "You dad is one scary guy," Angie suddenly said. We all turned our gazes to her, raising a skeptic brow in the process. "Well…he is," she continued nervously.

            Carlos snorted in ridicule. "You two need to move the love affair else where or otherwise this could get ugly."

            No one said anything then, because we all knew he was right.

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 _~Okay, so it might seem like Ranger was a little harsh, but he'll come to his senses. So, hoped you liked the chapter!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Okay, so this is a pretty long chapter! I hope you enjoy, and let me know what you think in the review I hope you give me (:_

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Chapter 6

_The hallways glistened as frost coated the interior of the school. Looking around confused, my movement was static as I attempted each step. Each inhale I took, my exhale left a puff of mist throughout the sharp icy air. It was getting harder to breath. The walls began to close in, but my limbs were frozen stiff. Panic surged inside me—the need to breath and move consumed my every need. The need to get away. The need to retaliate. The need to live. _

_I wanted to scream, yet nothing came out. With every sharp inhale I took, a shallow darkness began to take over. My eye lids felt heavy and it wasn't long before the darkness completely took over. _

I snapped up from bed, breathing heavily as if I had just run a marathon. I blinked several times to clear my vision then looked over at the clock.

It was a quarter to five.

I sat there trying to steady my breathing, realizing I was shaking with chills. I threw back the covers and ran to my closet. I whipped on a pair of sweats and a thick hoodiethen proceeded towards the kitchen. I needed a cup of hot, steaming coffee. That should cure the chills.

I didn't want to reflect about what had just transpired—the dream. I just wanted to focus on bringing myself back to normalcy.

After pouring myself a mug of coffee and adding the typical cream and sugar, I proceeded to check if my dad was awake. I reached the parents bedroom finding the door unlocked (which was only left locked when both parents were in the room), with mom alone in bed in a dead sleep.

_Must be nice to be able to sleep like a log…_

I backtracked to see if dad was in his home office but found no light on. Guess that means he had started his morning sweat. I flipped the light on in the office and made my way to the desk. Sometimes I like to snoop and see what dad was working on. He never left the 'confidential' files out in the open, but from time to time I was lucky enough to see what case he was working on.

I shifted through the accounting documents and came across one of the case files. Flipping through it, I noticed it related to a missing person case. There wasn't a picture of the missing, but as my search went on, I came across a folder labeled _Pending Employment_. My curiosity went into high gear as I became eager to know who was being hired into Rangeman. But before I was even able to open the folder, a throat cleared in the distance. I jumped in my seat, the folder flying from my hands leaving the papers to scatter around me.

Dad had caught me off guard while I was snooping through his business—and I didn't even notice him standing there, leaning in against the door jam.

"Uh…dad! I didn't even see you there," I said to him. I adverted my eyes from his stare, wary of his reaction and ability to read me. When he didn't say anything I slowly brought my eyes up to meet his.

He had his arms crossed, an inquiring stare directed at me. I stood up from the seat and made the walk of shame to the exit. When I reached the door, I was blocked by dad's arm. I brought my head up to meet his stare—agonizingly slow.

He looked down at me and raised one eyebrow.

I smiled sheepishly up at him—my guilt pouring from my crinkled dimples.

He sighed and shook his head in an attempt to display disappointment. "Gianna,'' he began, pinching the bridge of his nose. "what are you up to now?"

"Oh dad," I said, swiping the air jokingly. "You know I'm just…"

"Do I have to reduce to locking away everything in this office? I figured it is just a lost cause—you'd find a way around that too."

I flinched.

I'm a pest. My family lives with a pest.

I bit my lip and looked back up at dad.

"You wanna' tell me what you were looking for?" he asked.

"Dad, honestly, I was not looking for anything". He eyed me suspiciously, and then must have realized I told the truth.

But of course, I wasn't off the hook. "Then tell me what you were snooping through."

I sighed and leaned against the doorway. "I had just gotten to the new employment files when you walked in. I swear I didn't see anything".

I stared up at him obediently, hoping he'd let it go. He uncrossed his arms and walked over to the scattered papers on the floor. I walked on over to help him but he held up his hand, stopping me in my tracks.

"I got it," he said. I nodded then he continued. "I don't want you in here anymore Gianna. I'm in the middle of an important job, and I needn't you to be prying through my case files."

"Got it dad" I said, backing my way to the door.

He stood up and placed the disoriented files on his desk then turning to face me. "I'm serious Gianna," his voice stern with authority. I nodded repetitively, and he acknowledged my response with a single nod of his own.

I left dad to muse in his office while I made my way to the kitchen to make more coffee. Today was the first day of a new semester and I had three new semester classes. I wasn't looking forward to sitting in class all day listening to the teachers give their spiel on classroom conduct and ramble on about the syllabus handouts. To make matters worse, I didn't have any new classes with Jess or Ronnie. And since I didn't really have any other friends, I'd be a loner…oh joy! (Not).

I was sitting at the kitchen table finishing some last minuet homework, when Carlos swaggered in.

"How long have you been up Gi?"

I glanced at the clock. "About an hour and half ago," I replied. I noticed him shaking his head.

"There's help for that you know," he said, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

I turned in my seat to face him. "Oh really? Like what?" I asked in mock curiosity. This had better not be a jest on his part.

"Haven't you ever tried a sleep inducement? Like _Lunesta_or some other form of a sleep aide?"

I turned back around in my seat, re-focusing on my homework. "Yes, but that's not really the problem—I sleep just fine".

He didn't reply, but I knew he was turned facing me, examining intently. I heard the clatter of the mug being placed on the counter as I now imagined him crossing his arms across his chest.

"Isn't there a way you can stop these horrendous dreams of yours?" He inquired.

I snapped my head facing him. "And don't you think that if I knew of a way I'd use it to my advantage!" I bellowed. I hated when people assumed that this was in some way my fault.

Carlos narrowed his eyes slightly, his browniris deepening as his thoughts gathered. "That's not what I was implying Gianna," he reasoned.

"Well then, please do explain. You act as if this is _my _fault."

"It's not like that Gi….I just hate that my baby sister has to endure this. It's my duty as your big brother to protect and care for you—but this is something way out of my reach".

A lump formed in my throat from his bare honesty. His face held such compassion that it burned to look at him. I was so use to the unyielding mask he presented that I was thrown back from the sudden change.

I stood up from my seat and wrapped my arms around his broad frame— holding him in a tight hug. I just about reached up to his shoulders, so he was towered over me. "Thank-you for always being there _mi hermono_, your are the best" I whispered against him. I felt Carlos pat my back, feeling his awkwardness radiate off from him. He didn't do this touchy-feelystuff. I released my hold of him and smiled up at him. He returned a small rise of a smile, and then gave a single nod of his head.

I went to the counter then, and filled my cup with coffee. Carlos exited from the kitchen and I found I was once again alone. Not that I didn't mind much, so much was on my mind. Why was I having anxiety dreams? Why was my dream set in a cold state—and at the school? None of this made sense. I pushed my thoughts aside and instead went back to my homework, in which I knew that at the end of the day the square root of 64 would always equal 8. This made sense, and it was doable with just a minimal of thought process.

At a quarter to seven I packed up my things and left for school.

* * *

Ronny McCoy was his name and gambling was his game. He was currently leaning up against my locker facing in the opposite direction of me—obviously waiting for me. He was dressed in his usual cashmere sweater, designer jeans—accentuating his gym body. He was tan—guess that came with the territory of hanging around the beach all summer long. He also was what I'd call a ladies man or a pantie-dropper, if you will. We had a past, one I'll get into later, but let's just say our 'cliques' of friends clashed in every way. For one thing, it was more then just my rebellious personality that set me apart. Sure I had the money and looks, but I saw passed that and didn't want any partake on it.

I walked up right behind him without him noticing.

"Here to profess your undying love for me?" I teased into his ear from behind. I noticed him flinch and try to cover his sudden jolt of my surprising him; I had to hold back my snicker of satisfaction. He then slowly turned to face me.

"Pfff…you wish _dollface_," Ronny replied looking down at me.

"Don't call me that" I protested, grimacing up at him.

He gave a smug little grin while starring down at me "Sure thing" he replied.

We stood there and eyed each other in silent battle. He was hoping I would crack and ask what was up, but I wanted him to give in first. I of course won, and he spoke first.

"I need your help Gianna" he said reluctantly.

I inhaled and turned from him and spun my locker comb. "What is it now Ron…spent too much of your daddy's money gambling? Or is it that you were stupid enough to …"

"No, no…it's nothing like that Gianna, I swear" he interrupted.

I mentally rolled my eyes. "Oh yeah sure" I replied shoving my books into my locker. I turned back around to face him "But, I'll humor you and ask anyway: What is it you need my help with Ronny?"

Ronny looked down at his feet and lifted his gaze looking directly at me. His face was like a balloon that was just deflated; all spark of hope was gone. "You don't have to be like that Gi…things don't have to be this way" he said whispering down to me. I could feel his lingering gaze as he narrowed his focus onto me.

I closed my eyes and swallowed heavily. "Don't" I whispered. I could feel the buried pain creep its way up. I wouldn't let myself give in. I opened my eyes and looked impassively into his deep hazel ones, "And yes, it does have to be this way. You know where I stand. Now, tell me what it is you had to say and move onward".

I knew it was cruel, but I refused to let past emotions get to me…he just wasn't worth it.

I waited for him process what I said as he pulled himself together. This time he swallowed heavily and got back to business (so to speak).

"Friday a bunch of us got together for a little card festivities" he began.

"Ri-ight" I replied. I knew it…once a gambler, always a gambler. (Only sometimes it wasn't just with cards).

"Right…so anyway, my boy Jerry wins the big potluck and the two fellows who missed out weren't too happy"

"Naturally"

"Well you see, they thought he cheated"

"Jerry? Cheat? Cha-right!" I said sarcastically.

"Look, Jerry does some stupid stuff, but he'd never risk his hide playin' these guys. They have what I would say friends in _very _low places"

"Oh boy"

"Yeah. So they decide to call on him one day. I get this text at one AM with Jerry saying he's gunna meet these guys and straighten things out…"

Yup, that's Jerry…not the sharpest tool in the shed that's for sure.

"So I'm assuming that Jerry didn't exactly straighten things out?" I inquired.

Ronny looked at lost with words. He ran his hand through his hair—his nervous habit.

"What is it Ron, talk to me" I probed.

"It just that…"

"Yeah, go on…"I motioned him on.

"Well, it's just that the text message was from two nights ago—he never showed at school today" Ronny finally got out.

I blinked.

"Okay Ronny…cut with the act" I said as I walked away from him. I could hear him trample after me through the bustling hallway. I felt his heavy hand latch onto my shoulder.

"I'm not kidding you here Gi…this is serious damn it!" He said with slight desperation in his voice.

I looked at his hand then to his face. He removed his grasp on my limb as if I suddenly grew fangs. I inwardly smiled.

"Well then if that's the case, this is a matter to be dealt with the police…not with me." I replied.

"Yeah well I came to you instead"

"Well then that's just stupidness on your part" I snapped; turning around to face him full on. "And hasn't his parents noticed him gone?"

"There never in town, his dad works and his mom left them a couple months ago—never to be heard from since," he explained.

"Then you should call his dad and have him call the police and file a report". Even to me that sounded odd—his dad was never around so how would he know Jerry was missing? From the way I see it, you need to know someone's missing before you report them missing…

"I wouldn't have wasted my time coming to you if I didn't fully think this through," Ronny said interrupting my thoughts. "I came to you knowing I could trust you. The police can't know the whole story—my ass will be grass if they find out what kind of shit I'm involved with—or who, more of"

I wanted to say that this wasn't my problem and to bug off, but I couldn't do that to him.

I sighed. "Look Ron, this really isn't something you should get yourself involved in."

He blinked swiftly, so reassured of himself as if nothing would deter him. "That's why I came to you" he replied fixedly.

I shook my head and sighed. "You should really involve the police…they have the resourses I can't touch."

"Oh please! You seem to forget who your father is"

That comment tipped my boat, allowing a seeping gust of anger to flood. "Don't go there" I gritted between clenched teeth. "This is your so-called-friend here, leave all other matters out and just focus on finding your friend here. Damn you for worrying about saving your ass". I know it sounded snobbish, but I was a little protective of my father. I hold him in high regards and have immense respect for him. I don't like when people make comments about him—even if they are the truth.

"Your right" He said sounding defeated. I blinked waiting for him to continue on. "I just don't want to play that card just yet. I'm not ready to have them involved"

I looked up at him. Who was I to make the choices for him? He had made up his mind, and yes I knew that not involving the police would only make matters worse, but hey, Jerry wasn't my friend—my concern…so I agreed.

"Okay, I'll look into it" I said. His face lit up. "I charge by the hour these days…so you let me know when I'm on the clock".

And with that I spun on my heel and headed off to class.

"You're kidding, right?" I heard him call after me.

I didn't respond.

* * *

_Alright, the plotis thickening, so I hope your paying attentionfor clues!_


	7. Chapter 7

_Okay, so I wrote this really really fast, so there is probably many errors. But, I hope you enjoy the story--sorry if you get confused, this branches off from my story Eye of the Beholder. The main character is Gianna, and she is the daughter of Ranger and Stephanie. She has two older brothers; Carlos and Carson. Hope that helps!_

* * *

Chapter 7: A Manoso Christmas

It was Christmas Eve and I was sitting at the annual Manoso Christmas dinner table. Complete with twenty-two chairs, every seat at the table was taken with a Manoso clan member. Seated to my left was my cousin Sofia. She was Aunt Celia's youngest, aging 15. To my right was my other cousin Andres, he was 17 and was the son of my uncle _Diego_. I saw these people maybe a few times a year, so when we got together, we have a tradition to mix things up and sat in line by our age. Needless to say, this was one big, chaotic dinner table.

After dinner we then all headed to the front room and sat around the Christmas tree while reminiscing on good times. It was nice to see dad smile and laughing at some of his 'boyhood' days. He was quite the little troublemaker that's for sure. Made my brother's and I look like amateurs.

When the room grew quiet—all stories of past recollections dwindled—we said our goodbyes and headed back towards Trenton. We were currently in our Rangeman SUV relishing in our own happy thoughts. I was seated between my two brothers; Carlos and Carson. They both were older then me, but at the moment they looked ten years younger as they rested their sleeping heads on each side of my shoulders. The car was silent as Dad drove us back home to our Penthouse apartment atop of Rangeman headquarters. I loved living there—at night I could gaze out into the large one-way windows, and overlook the gleaming city. Christmas there was always something special. All the 'Merry Men' would gather around our tree— fooling around in their ridiculous PJ's as they joined in on our Christmas morning. I wouldn't trade that for the world.

As we drove on home, snow began to descend from the night sky. Big clumps of snowflakes stuck onto the windshield making it hard to see. I found it all comforting to be here in this moment. Seeming as if I was asleep alongside my brothers, my parents spoke in soft whispers as their hands held one another's. I smiled to myself seeing their love radiate so strongly after all these years.

"Babe, it still amazes me to see how fast our _niños_ have grown," I heard dad whisper.

Mom had a sleepy slur when she replied, but answered nonetheless. "I know. Seeing them together—all grown up, gets me all choked up".

Dad gave a slight chuckle. "Babe, everything gets you choked up," he mused, bringing mom's palm up to his lips and giving a light kiss.

Mom snatched her hand back from dad's grasp and snapped her head in dad's direction.

"And just what's that suppose to mean!" mom whispered gruffly.

I could practically hear the smile in dad's voice when he spoke. "It means, that you're just an emotional women"

"Is that so," mom replied snobbishly, crossing her arms. She then turned her head towards her side of the window. "And what's wrong with that?"

Dad's tone dropped, allowing his accent to come on thick. "Nothing what so ever," he stated. "I was just implying that you're a very responsive women—and you know I like that".

Mom's head dropped and I imagined her blushing from dad's implication. I—as much as I appreciate that fact that my parents are in love—felt this wasn't something I wanted to be listening in on. I knew my parents were intimate, but I didn't need the graphic details of it.

I forced myself not to tune in on their 'conversation' and shut my eyes and willed myself to sleep.

When I came around again, I was being carried by a pair of bulging masculine arms. Peaking up, I saw it was one of my father's Merry Men.

"You can put me down Hal, I'm awake," I said to him, my voice groggy from my tired state.

"You sure Gi?" he asked, looking down at me. I nodded and he gently set me down.

I headed back up to seven. When I got there all was quiet, and a dim light from the Christmas tree was all that lit the darkened apartment. I took a moment to stare at the beautiful tree. The multi-colored lights reflected off from the ornaments, leaving an array of warm happy memories to cascade.

Engrossed in the moment, I didn't feel the presence that materialized next to me.

"_Querida, _I thought you were asleep," Dad said quietly.

I looked up at him and gave him a small smile. "I was, and then I woke up. Why didn't you wake me, I don't like you having the Merry Men carry me like that. I'm a _big_ girl now daddy," I teased, mocking a young girls voice.

Dad sighed. "I'm aware of that, but in my eyes you'll always be _mi Chiquita._

I smiled, then leaned in and kissed him on the check. "_Buenos noche padre,_" I said, and then turned to head towards my room.

"Sweet dreams _querida_," I heard him call after me.

The next morning I was awoken by an uproar of laughter. I smiled as I pulled the covers back. Heading towards the living room, my family along with my uncles (the Merry Men), all gathered around the Christmas tree. Uncle Lester was in his Sponge Bob Christmas boxers while struggling in a brawl with Cal and Tank. Tank had pinned Lester and was tying a bow around him.

"Hey, let up man—I would have worn the stupid thing anyway," Lester yelled from the floor.

Tank and Cal grinned down at Lester—who still laid there on the floor. "I'm sure you would Les, but it was much more fun tackling you and forcing it upon you," Cal remarked.

My brothers laughed as they threw used wrapping paper at Lester. Just then, mother walked in with father in tow.

"Hey now, that's enough of this fooling around. You weren't supposed to open anything without everyone here to begin with," mom said to the room.

Apologies were spread throughout the room as Lester was helped up from the floor. I looked over to the Christmas tree and saw it clustered with presents. Seem my parents and Uncles went all out this year.

"Hey, look who's finally up," Uncle Lester pointed out from the couch. All heads turned in my direction from where I stood hidden in the hallway.

"Yeah, it's about time Gi, we've been up half the morning," my brother Carson said.

I rolled my eyes. "It's the first good night sleep I had in a long time," I remarked, looking over to dad. He knew why I never got any sleep. Since for as long as I can remember I've had these disturbing nightmares. Tonight, or rather this morning, was the first time in a very long time I've had peaceful sleep. Talk about an early Christmas present!

We all took our seats and waited as the oldest of us choose the first present to give out. This was our tradition: One present at a time. One person picks a gift that's not their own, then that person who opened the gift got to choose the next. It went on for hours at end.

I smiled as I watched my family laugh and tease each other as we passed on gifts. We might not be the ideal nuclear family, but I wouldn't trade this quirky family for anything.

* * *

_Hope you had a very Merry Christmas! Happy holidays! Have a safe New Year as well!_


	8. Chapter 8

_Okay, so I know it's been awhile--but to make up for it I've got three other chapters completed that I should post soon. This chapter--because it's been so long since I've posted--might confuse you with what's going on in the story. This chapter takes place the day after Christmas break. Gianna is in her new semester class, and of course, stirs up some trouble._

_Thanks for reading :)_

Chapter 8

* * *

It was Monday, the first day back from winter break. And let me tell ya, it was not long enough. I sat in the back of my new semester class, the first day of _actual_ work. The class was Chemistry and I was totally at loss—feeling as if I were in a foreign language rather. But lucky for me, Carlos had already taken this class and I had bought off his binder from him—compact with _completed _homework assignments.

So I slumped low in my seat, and made myself comfortable. I started to space off a little when I heard my name announced. I brought my head up from the desk and looked around confused. Looking to the front of the room, a set of deep blue eyes met mine. The eyes belonged to the teacher of the class: Mr. Breton.

Mr. Breton had been a looker in his younger years. You could still see traces of that attractiveness in him, but age tends to catch up with you sooner or later. He was now in his mid-forties, and his body seemed to reframe from the aging process and resembled that of a thirty-year-old. He had that suave set of hair that models dreamed of. Of course he was blond and had a killer smile (can you say bleach strips).

After making eye contact with me, he shook his head in mild disappointment having caught me in the act of falling asleep. He then resumed his lecture. Call me crazy, but I found I was not at all attracted to him. Having met his stare when he called to my attention, I noticed the whole front row consisted of googly-eyed, drooling girls. All of them seemed to be bent on every word that left his full-set lips. I wanted to gag—maybe I should sit next to the trash…

A stifled chuckle that led to a cough spasm erupted to my left. Pulling my gaze from the teacher, I glared towards the source of the 'cough'. There my eyes met the eyes of a stranger. He was slouched low in his seat, his black hoodie pulled up over his head. He had an amused smile splayed across his lips as he watched me. I found myself irritated that he found me so entertaining.

"You got a problem?" I mumbled over to him.

He raised an eyebrow as his amused smirk grew into a full grin. "What's so appealing about the trash?" he softly replied back.

I dodged his probing eyes and looked down at my lap. Seems I must have spoken aloud when I was mulling over the love-sick girls. I turned my attention back to the stranger beside me. "I said that aloud didn't I?"

He slowly nodded his head, causing his dark hair to sweep across his forehead. I found myself admiring his full, eye-catching hair. It curled around his face in soft waves that emphasized his lofty bone structure. That's when I noticed his grassy green eyes. They pulled me in with their piercing sharp gaze. I couldn't seem to look away. I've never been so enthralled—he was just so beautiful.

"Are you done?" he abruptly asked—a hint of annoyance in his voice.

I inwardly jumped in surprise. He had caught me staring at him as I studied his features—finding him utterly attractive. I felt my face flush with embarrassment. I tried to be witty and turn the tables in my favor.

"I've never seen you before, are you new?" I asked.

He smiled a knowing smile—as if he knew I was gawking and tried to backpedal my way out of humiliation.

Bastard.

When he continued to just smile at me, I felt my temper start to spark. "Well?" I hastily questioned.

He nodded his head. "Yeah, I'm new—just transferred from out of state."

I found myself nodding along with him. "Well now…"

"Miss Manoso, if you fine my class so tedious, why do you bother wasting both mine and your time coming here?" Mr. Breton interjected.

Once again I found him standing in front of the class, hands low on hips, with eyes plastered to me. His eyebrows were lifted in a questioning gesture, but otherwise his expression was blasé.

I froze, not sure how to respond. This was not a way to start the semester. Mr. Breton continued to eye me, probably speculating what my answer would be. I looked over to the stranger next to me who was now looking down at his desk. It was his fault I was stuck in this predicament.

"Miss Manoso, I would advised that you not turn to Mr. Velvachini for answers—I'm sure his answer wouldn't be any more _intelligent _then yours." He smiled spitefully when he finished, daring me to challenge his authority.

I felt my jaw drop in disbelief. Did this teacher really just insult me? Oh no he didn't! My lips curled in a snarl.

"How about you go bleach your teeth some more—I see some plaque growing as we speak."

Mr. Breton's eyes widened with surprise while the class gave out a gasp. I mentally scowled at my stupidity for having such an impulsive mouth. I looked over to the stranger by my left to find him staring intently at me. What was his problem _now_?

I didn't have much time to ponder this, for Mr. Breton was now at my desk looking fiercely down at me. I slowly lifted my chin to face him as I looked guiltily up at him.

He leaned forward till he was almost eye level with me. "I'd like you to stay after class," he whispered. I diverted my eyes and nodded. He straitened up and readjusted his shirt and tie before facing the class once again.

"Real smooth sugar-lips," the stranger whispered over to me.

I felt myself digging my fingers into my palm as I stopped myself from lashing out. "Don't call me that," I gritted between my teeth.

Though I didn't turn to see him, I knew a smile grew on his lips. "As you wish _bella_," he replied in return.

I turned my head in his direction. "What?" I snapped.

And as I guessed he was smiling—a cheeky grin at that. Smug little bastard. He was looking onward; 'pretending' to focus intently on the lecture the teacher was giving. I shook my head and turned forward.

I began to dot off again, but right before I dosed into dreamland a wad of paper hit me smack dab on my forehead.

Snapping up in a sitting up position, I turned my focus to the paper-wad thrower. "Man, what is your problem!" I bellowed, non to quietly. He lifted his hands up in a surrendering gesture as he seemed to suppress a chuckle.

"You've got issues babe," he reasoned.

I blinked twice, not really sure if I had heard him right. I did not like hearing him associate me with that term of endearment.

"Oh no. No, no, do not call me that. Babe—that is a definite no _no_," I said, emphasizing my displeasure at the particular name.

He made an odd face at my deep displeasure. "You're a strange girl…you know that".

I narrowed my eyes—glaring at him. "I'll have you know…"

"That is enough!" Mr. Breton yelled, slamming his hand on a desk. Half the class jumped in surprise at his out lash. I froze in place, fearful of what I was getting myself into now. "Out in the hallway now—both of you!"

I heaved a sigh and pulled myself up from my seat simultaneously with the stranger who seemed to have a personal vendetta against me. I walked out from classroom with my head down—avoiding all eye contact. Slumping down against the locker, I began to bang the back of my head on the locker door.

"So I take it you don't like my pet names for you," the stranger said. He was sitting across from me, leaned up against another set of lockers.

I stopped my head banging and eyed him. "Right you are sir, what ever gave that assumption away?" I asked mockingly.

He made an odd face as he answered. "You practically lunched yourself at me when I called you _babe_. What's wrong with _babe_ anyhow?"

I sighed. "It's what my father calls my mother. It...um, well you see," I paused in thought. Why was this so hard to explain? I shook my head and began again. "It just didn't feel right you know? My parents are like nauseatingly in love and I guess in a weird way I relate that endearment to a strong liking of affection—love, if you will" I answered.

He nodded as if he were following along and agreeing. "I see".

"Yeah, so uh please cease with the nicknames okay. The names Gianna, I guess if you can't manage that you can call me Gigi—but whatever floats your boat," I said shrugging my shoulders. He smiled and leaned his head against the locker closing his eyes.

I looked around and that's when it finally hit me that I was sitting in the hallway with a stranger. A stranger that is responsible for putting me in this mess. I scowled in disgust.

"What is your name?" I asked scornfully.

Opening his eyes, he answered gruffly. "Ivan. Ivano Dante Velvachini".

I scrunched my brows in thought. He seemed foreign. Long exotic name, dark Mediterranean skin tone. He seemed so mysterious too. He looked on as if waiting for a drastic reaction, but instead I smiled in a teasing way. "Ivan huh? That's an odd name," I said.

"Thank you," he replied dryly, a fake smile at his lips.

Just then, class let out and the hallway began to bustle with anxious students dying to meet up with their friends. Ivan and I both stood up and moved out from the traffic. Mr. Breton appeared at the doorway, ushering his students out. He spotted us and pointed us out.

"You two," he gestured "my office now."

We staggered in after him, heads down as we dreaded the spiel we were about to receive. Mr. Breton took a stance behind his desk paced in front of the classroom. Ivan and I stood side by side behind the desk.

"The behavior you portrayed today was unacceptable. I will _not_tolerate such—and for theses such actions you both will receive detention for a week. Good day Mr. Velvachini" Mr. Breton said all at once.

We turned to leave the classroom, and just before I reached the exit Mr. Breton called me out. "Ah, Miss. Manoso, I did not excuse you."

I froze in place. Ivan stopped as well and turned to face me. He gave me a questioning look, as if he were asking if I'd be okay. I found that to be both sweet and odd all at once. I hardly knew the dude. I nodded my head, indicating that I'd be okay and he gave a single nod and went on his way. I turned back to face Mr. Breton who looked on after me.

"Miss. Manoso, I advice that you keep your lover's quarrel outside from my classroom, it is not proper."

What? I turned to look where Ivan had exited. He thought we were together—like _together _together. Like dating? I must have displayed an odd expression for Mr. Breton had a gleam in his eye displayed his curiosity. Of course I wasn't going to fill him in—this wouldn't be any of his business anyhow. So in return I gave him the famous Manoso 'blank stare'. Of course after a few moments of silent awkwardness Mr. Breton spoke up.

"I presume you are regretful for the snide comment you directed at me—in front of all your classmates at that," he began.

I bit my tongue and nodded my head.

"Well then, as I'm sure as you've guessed, there will be payment for your consequence."

I looked down to the ground, not wanting to meet his condescending stare.

"Well the way I see it, you have two choices. One," he began, rising up from his seat "you can take this matter to the office and explain for your misconduct. Though, I wouldn't advise that you do—it wouldn't end well for you if I were to have any say in the matter. And I would."

I brought my chin up swiftly and eyed him. Where was he getting at?

I swallowed heavily before replying. "And my second option?" I asked.

Mr. Breton leered down at me; a small wicked smile playing at his full lips. I diverted my eyes, not wanting to meet his chilling stare. I felt him move from his desk, swarming around and coming up behind me and placing his hands on my shoulder. I stiffened—his breath was at my ear as he spoke. "Or, you make it up to me…personally"

I felt my breath coming in shallow gasps. Was he coming onto me? I wondered if he knew I found him so repulsive, unlike all his other female students—did that bother him so much? My god the man was trying to woo me!

I shrugged his hands off my shoulders. "Gaah…just what do you take me for!" I exclaimed, turning around to glare at him. "I'm not one of those bimbos that can't see through your bull shit! So work your crap on some other fruit cake"

"You're a beautiful girl Gianna—and I'm a man that has acknowledged that. Many would welcome this opportunity."

I felt my face crinkle in a horrid expression as I took in his appalling suggestion. This man is a creep! No way would I let him get away with this—his ass would be grass by the end of the day. He'd spend the rest of his days wrinkling away in a jail sell (and expectedly the wrinkling part would be his undoing—the phrase 'rotting in prison' brought on a whole new meaning).

I made my actions clear as I started to head for the exit. I didn't get far when he called after me. "Suit yourself. But from looking at your record here, you can't really afford another black mark…"

I froze in place and snapped around to face him. "What are you talking about?"

He was seated in his seat once again, looking up from a folder as he smiled deviously. "Miss Manoso, you're on the brink of a suspension. And if I have any say in the matter it won't just end there."

I narrowed my gaze and slowly began to inch towards him. "And you think you'll get away with this?" I snarled, as I was now leaning forward on his desk, restraining myself from reaching across and throttling him. He really thought I'd care to get suspended? I'd rather eat a can of worms and puke them up and eat them again then let this scum-bag play with me.

He barked out a laugh and sneered up at me. "I have before and I will again with you—just you wait. I have a way of _manipulating_ my way around"

I let out a deep exhale and narrowed my gaze at him. "Oh yeah, and what makes you so confident this time?" It angered me to no end that he thought he could get to me.

He had his fingers stapled and an aggravated expression set upon his face. "I'd advice that you do not tango with me Miss Manoso—you are in way-over-your-head. No one will believe your word against mine"

And that got me. He was right—I couldn't very well go making accusations without some solid ground facts. I was seen as a troublesome student (for the most part) and Mr. Breton was a shined-upon, well-respected teacher. It would be my foul-mouth against prominent word. The odds were on his side.

I studied him for a moment, trying to get a read off him, but found I was at lost. He seemed to be hiding something, something that made him confident in his ways. I couldn't just believe he could get away with coming on to a student—I mean that would be _sexual misconduct with a _minor for Chris sake! He must have had a history of this, making him a creature of habit. I mean, why not continue your affairs if you never get caught?

It just sickened me that he had cornered me, giving me no other choice but to submit to his demands. Almost surreal for me—a Manoso—to be victimized! I refused to let him get away with this. This would be the last time he'd use his sick charm on anyone—let alone a minor.

But I knew I had to play his game while I kept my cool and fought my way out of this. He doesn't mess with a Manoso and expect to get away with it.

"Have it your way then, Mr. Breton," I said, scowling as I made my way for the door.

"We'll begin with lunch detention, starting tomorrow," he called after me.

I didn't bother to look back; I knew if I did I would launch myself at him and find myself in court—charged with murder.

After leaving Mr. Breton's, I walked on through the now deserted halls to the girl's bathroom. I stuck the cork under the door jam to keep it locked so I could allow myself some privacy. I then proceeded to splash some water on my face and took a couple deep breaths to calm myself.

I could not believe that really just happened. My initial reaction was to rat the scumbag out—but I knew that wouldn't fly. That was quite the allegation and I'd need some hardcore evidence to back me up. It'd be a case of she said—he said. Plus, he's tenured with no past record of maligns

Or perhaps not?

Just then I knew I'd have to do some B&E into the school's file records. Good thing for me, I had just the _key_ for getting into such resources. I pulled out a purple get-out-of-class slip and wrote out a pass for the person in mind.

I passed on through the hallways with a mission, and I was determined to take matters into my own hands. I knocked on room 331 and waited for the teacher to answer. After a moment, Mr. Shidler—the physics teacher—answered the door.

"Yes?" he asked.

"I have a pass here—the office required I sent it down personally," I replied. This was a code of conduct that teachers knew for those unruly students. We students caught on—naturally—and quickly learned that when a pass was hand delivered, you were in deep dodo.

Mr. Shidler nodded. "Why yes, of course," and he then took the pass I handed to him.

I backed away and turned to hide myself around the corner to wait out. Several seconds later, Ronnie rounded the corner and I pulled up from the wall in front of him.

Ronnie jumped in surprise and rested his hand over his heart. "Whoa there Gi—don't scare me like that!"

I smiled. "Sorry."

"It's alright man—you got me out of class," he replied, waving the pass I had written up for him.

"Ya, well don't go thanking me yet."

"Oh boy," he mumbled.

Oh boy was right…

* * *

_Please review--I really appreciate it!_


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9 Eye of the Beholder**

Okay, so I know that using your friend so you can break into a confidential school filing system is not something that is shined down upon—but desperate times call for desperate measures. I had Ronnie stand in as guard, while I used his lock-picking device to bust into the school records. The teacher files were placed in a set office located behind the main office of the school. A single hallway led to another hallway that connected to the main commons area—where I had Ronnie remain. To my right, was an aisle way that led to what I assumed to be a teachers lounge—one that was adjoined to the main office. Seeing how classes were currently only into third hour, no lunches had started and the staff lounge would not be occupied; leaving me the chance to do some B&E.

Once I broke in, I was able to maneuver on through and find the main file cabinet. There were several, which I assumed served for numerous different purposes. I looked through multiple cabinets before I discovered the teacher's documentations. The files were listed alphabetically so I flipped on through the folders to find the name tab I was in search for.

Michael H. Breton

Bingo!

I began to pull the folder out when a clearing of a throat stopped me in my mid-grasp. My heart stopped and I froze like a dear-in-headlights.

"You are a magnet for trouble sugar-lips," a familiar voice spoke from behind.

I snapped my head over and faced the voice—pulling the file behind me.

It was Ivan—the mesmerizing boy in my Chemistry class. The one who got me into trouble in the first place—well sort of (I'm capable of getting into trouble all by myself) no help is required for that.

"Uh—it's so not what it looks like," I said, sounding baffled even to myself.

He inched a brow at my pathetic lie. Yup even he could see through it. "Oh really? Cuz to me it looks like you were breaking into the school files and snooping through classified records." Ivan said, giving a condescending stare that dared me to protest.

"I…uh. Well you see…" I stammered, looking anywhere but at him.

"Yes?"

Oh! What's the use? I was caught red-handed. I sighed and looked him dead on. "What's it to you anyhow?"

His eyes narrowed and he shifted himself inside, shutting the door behind him. "What are you doing in hear Gianna—the door was locked for a reason. I should hand you over to the authorities"

I huffed and straightened my posture. "And what gives _you_ the justification to do that?" I asked haughty.

He gave a grim smile and flaunted some sort of Identification tag at me. I leaned in closer to see what he was displaying.

The tag read: Office Aid.

Damn!

I bit my lower lip in defeat. "You aren't really going to turn me in are you?" I asked, flashing my baby-blues at him.

He gazed down at me for a moment, probably humoring me at my attempt to enthrall him. I'd actually say he did some good acting on his part—as he fixedly looked down at me. He began to inch closer and I felt my heart rate accelerate. I licked my lips unconsciously, for they became suddenly dry. He was now just inches from my face and I could feel his warm breath sheathing down against my check.

Other then Rangemen employees and my own family, I've never been in this close proximity to a human male before. Sure, that may sound like I'm a naive little girl, but one look at my father, and the suitors go running for the hills. I had a boyfriend once—Ronny McCoy in fact—but like I had mentioned earlier, that was a whole other story. Let's just say that having a dad who owns a head government security firm puts a damper on intimate time with your beau.

Merry-Men + Boss's daughter's love interest= Dead-meat.

So needless to say, when Ivan crossed my _do-not-cross _line, I found I was anticipating for one of my father's Merry-Men to pop out and clamp a hand (or fist) on Ivan and leave me to be, once again, 'untouched'.

I found myself holding my breath, almost afraid to move as Ivan closed in on my personal space. I closed eyes and just when I too began to lean into him, I felt his arms engulf around me, and that's when my eye's snapped open.

Ivan reached around me, almost ripping the document out from my grasp.

"H-hey…what do you think your doing?" I asked, sounding flustered. I tried to reach around him as he read the file, but he swiftly moved out of the way—blocking me from my steel-back.

"I'm trying to see what you're up to," Ivan replied. He paused for a moment, studying over the file. "Hmmm…Mr. Breton's file—why am I not surprised."

He was paused in front of me and I took that as my chance and I snatched the file back.

"Well as fun as this has been," I began, making my way to the exit, "I must be off—class awaits."

Of course I wasn't able to make my getaway. "Not so fast," he said, griping onto my arm. "I can't let you leave with that file."

Damn.

I slumped my shoulders in defeat. "What if I promise to return it by the end of the day?"

"No."

"Oh come on! Stop being such a turd!"

Ivan smiled, looking down and shaking his head. "A turd?"

"Yeah, a turd. Its better then calling you ass-hole—is it not?" I replied in a matter-of-factly voice.

His eyes turned serious once again. "Gianna your lucky I'm not turning you in. You know I can't let you walk out of here with that file."

I guess he had a good point. I mean, I was eager to read what was inside the file, but I wasn't desperate enough for Mr. Breton to find out I was snooping into his business. I don't want him to know I've got a plan up my sleeve—I want to blindside him.

But, as I looked down at the file I realized this could be my one and only chance at a lead. I looked back up at Ivan, giving him my baby-blues. "Please," I pleaded.

Ivan let out a long sigh and let go of my arm. He pinched the bridge of his nose, and then made eye contact once again; a look of unease set upon his face.

"I'll make you a deal," he proposed, lifting his eyebrows as an incentive.

I eyed him curiously. "I'm listening," I replied.

He huffed out a breath of air, probably relieved I was cooperating. "Okay, the one and _only _deal I'm offering is that you can look at the file—remaining in the room as you do so—if you tell me what you're up to and why _this_ file is so important."

I wanted to ask him what his deal was with wanting to know, but I figured I didn't want to blow my chance at reading the file. But at the same time I didn't want him to know what happened between Mr. Breton and me. I still didn't have a good grasp on Ivan and what he was all about, so I couldn't predict how he'd react.

"Gianna, do we have an agreement?" Ivan said, interrupting my thoughts.

I bit my lip. I was struggling with what to say to him. If I'm honest, I really didn't want to lie to him. A part of me wanted to just hand over this situation I'm in—it be nice to have someone take care of me while I sit back and watch it all play out. But, of course I wouldn't do that, it's not in my blood. Plus, it would get around to my father, and I wasn't ready to play that card just yet—having daddy involved would be short of a bloodshed.

Lying it is. "I was asked by someone to retrieve his file," I replied.

"Really," Ivan replied, not sounding convinced. He slumped back against the wall, narrowing his gaze upon me.

"Yup...really," I replied, not meeting his eyes.

I sensed his piercing gaze on me, feeling as if I were under intense scrutiny. He sighed heavily and pushed up from off the wall.

"Enough—game over Manoso. Tell me what he said to you."

His voice was flat, shocking me with his bluntness. I scrunched my eyebrows together, trying to make my expression appear accusing. I opened my mouth to say something but he hushed me with his hand.

"Don't bullshit me, it be a waste of both of our time," he said.

I rolled my eyes and stared him dead on. "He hit on me," I replied, showing my side frankness. He blinked once—expression blank. Maybe if I was lucky he wouldn't believe me and just let it be.

But of course I was wrong. "Where'd you bury the body?" he asked.

I scowled. "What?!"

He smiled. "I'm joking."

I raised my eyebrow and rubbed my chin. "Hmm, who would have thought he had a sense of humor," I mumbled to myself

He stooped down to my level, eyes equal to mine. "Ha-ha, very funny," he said, then straightening back away from me. He rested his hands on his hips and looked down at me. "Now spill."

I huffed in defeat and raised my hands. "What's there to spill?" I began. "He called me out, blackmailed me, and now I'm here seeking vengeance." Even I noticed my bitter tone. Ivan cursed and turned away looking for some sort of control I knew he was fighting to keep. I knew this was a bad idea to tell him. He started to head for the door, but I grabbed his arm to stop him. He paused in place and looked to me.

"This isn't how you should handle this Gianna," Ivan spat out.

"And what, going off to punch the living daylight out of him is!?" I exclaimed. His eyes darkened and he let out a sigh. I released his arm, sensing his restraint returning back on track.

"No…I guess your right," he said sounding defeated.

"Yes, I am."

His mouth was set in a grim expression, his eyes gave away nothing. "You need to let someone know, you can't just take matters into your own hands," he replied.

"No!" I yelled. Then shook my head and softened my voice. "I mean…not yet. I don't think I have anything legit to call him out on."

Ivan's eyes grew large and he scowled bitterly. "Nothing to call him out on! I don't think so, this…"

I stopped him right there. "Look, I know your right. It's just that I want this guy to go down. And right now it's his word against mine and he's got the upper hand. Besides that, if my dad found out…"

"Okay okay, I get it." Ivan answered. He began to pace in front of me, studying the ground in thought. "Okay so here's what we're going to do…"

"We're?" I interrupted.

He stopped his pacing and faced me head on. "Yeah…you and me. You don't think I'm letting you do this alone do you?"

* * *

_Okay, so let me know what you think! I'd love to hear from you :) And, what do you think of Mr. Breton?_


	10. Chapter 10

_Well to say it's been awhile is an understatement. I'm sorry for it taking so long--you know how real life can get in the way. But don't worrie, I havn't abandoned this story or the characters. But please stick around....thanks for understanding!_

**Chapter 10**

I blinked.

Then blinked again.

I wasn't sure what to say to him. Initially when I thought I'd be doing some sleuthing, I didn't expect to have a tagalong. But as I continued to think about it, maybe that wouldn't be such a bad idea. I mean, he agreed to help me—he had an in with the office—and I really could use all the 'confidential' help I could get.

I brought my focus back to Ivan. "Ok then, but first things first—we do things my way and if you tell anyone…_anyone,_ I will have you dead and buried before an Amber alert makes way ," I said with conviction.

Ivan didn't bother to hold back his bark of laughter. "Oh that's priceless," Ivan leered. "Way to get me quivering in my boots."

"Yeah yeah, laugh it up. Do we have a deal or what?"

Ivan turned serious; his lips set in a grim line. "Yeah, we'll play this out your way…for now."

I had opened my mouth to ask him what he meant by 'for now' but an interruption at the door stopped me in the process.

"Gi, you've been in here…." Ronnie began, poking his head in through the door, and then pausing when he noticed I wasn't alone. "Oh…Ivan is it?" Ivan gave a single head nod indication as his answer. Ronnie shook his head, and then looked back over to me. "Everything alright in here Gi?"

I bobbed my head, suddenly feeling a bit awkward in this tiny filing closet. "We were just about to head out," I replied back. Ivan waved his arm as a signal for me to lead the way. I started towards the exit, then paused and turned back towards Ivan who happened to be right behind me. We bumped into each other, but recovered quickly.

"Problem?" Ivan asked, eyeing me with question.

"You got the file?" I asked. He lifted up the folder and waved it in front of my face. I acknowledged him with a nod and proceeded onward.

As the day dwindled on, I grew antsier with frustration. I hate that I was tricked into working with someone—having to work on his terms. After leaving the filing room, Ivan agreed to meet with me before school to discuss our plan of action. What frustrated me was that I had to wait; it wasn't so much that I had to combine forces with him. I felt immobile with no way to move my plan foreword—I needed that file dammit!

My mind just could not focus on anything else as I sat through the rest of my classes. My eyes seemed to have never left the clock as I watched the seconds tick by. Seconds that were going to waste—I wish I could be out of here already; I could be putting my snooping habits to good use.

Class let out and I found myself making a beeline to my locker. It was the end of the day, and I wanted out of here! I froze in my tracks when I saw a familiar, yet dreadful figure hanging around my locker. Only this time, he was facing my direction. His eyes grew big when he spotted me and indicated for me to come towards him.

I let out a sigh and walked on over. "Well if it isn't my lucky day!" I said in mock excitement.

Ronny smiled a cheeky grin. "It could be…that is if you ever let a man touch you," he replied.

I let his snide sting for just a second before I came up with my own retort. "Yeah, well if you see any around be sure to let me know."

It was a low blow I know—high school guys don't like it when you wound their…uh, ego.

Ronny moved off from my locker, allowing me to have access to it. Guess I won in the ongoing verbal battle—point for me! I spun my comb, and without looking up at him I began my probing.

"So what can I do for you Ronny McCoy?" I unlocked my locker and began to pull out my book bag and load up my books.

"Well it's been a week and I haven't heard anything from you—you are still working on finding Jerry right?"

I froze in place and bit my lower lip. Truth was, I really haven't gotten around to searching for the whereabouts of Jerry. Over winter break, Jerry's dad came home for the holidays to find no sunny-boy home. Guess there was no place like home for the holiday's after-all. Jerry's dad filed a missing person's report, but since there was nothing to go off from, the sheriff just assumed it was another teenage runaway case.

Ronny had called me several times over break, confirming rather or not I was still 'on the case', of which I replied I was. But with everything else amuck, I hadn't found time or incentive to investigate.

I turned straight on to Ronny. "Why are you so concerned Ronny? Are you in trouble too is that why you're so anxious?" I asked.

A look of ludicrous crossed Ronny's face. "He's my friend—what kind of insensitive jerk to you think I am?" Ronny yelled.

I felt my eyes widened in shock. Guess this was getting to him—the guilt that he had let his friend down. But truthfully, you couldn't very well blame me for thinking his motive was a selfish one, after all he did let me down…

I brought myself back to the consciousness and shook my head to clear my thoughts. "Your right, it's not my business anyhow for what your reasons are. You are my client… persé, so I do as you pay me to do."

Ronny seemed to have gotten himself back together, but I could still see the strain in his eyes. "Anything I pay for huh?" He said teasingly, his voice not quite meeting his jest.

I smiled slightly, going along with his diversion. "Look, truthfully, I haven't done any investigating yet. What I need to know from you is the names of these "fella's" Jerry gambled with."

Ronny started to rebel from the question as he started to say something but stopped. I waited as he collected himself. "I don't want you involved with these guys, there not people you should associate with."

I rolled my eyes. "Gambling not really my game, besides…"

"That's not what I meant Gianna. They're into some shady business and…" he trailed off.

I motioned for him to continue, "And…"

He shook his head as if to clear it. "Knowing their names is irrelevant. I told you what I know; now work your magic and track him." He came off a little too commanding, and I gave him an are-you-kidding me stare.

"Okay first off, you have given me nothing to go off from. Secondly, I am doing you a favor hear bud. The only reason I haven't ratted you out on your little 'illegal' gambling bit, is because I know that it would take too long for the legal system to take action."

By now I was up in his face, glaring up at him as he starred down at me. He raised an eyebrow in inquiry. "Are you done?"

I took a deep inhale and let out a shaky, infuriated sigh. "No, no I'm not. I have no leads what so ever—you have giving me nothing! Those names are all I can get off from. So…no names, no game," I said with a shrug of my shoulders.

With that I slammed my locker shut and began to walk away. I didn't get far before he grabbed onto my arm; pulling me back. I stumbled a bit, but steadied myself against the locker set. I turned to shove him—for he had released his hold of my arm—but found someone had already beaten me to it.

Ivan had rammed Ronny up against the lockers; Ronny looking completely taken aback. "Hey man, what's your problem!?" Ronny exclaimed, hands held up in a surrendering gesture.

"Do you always make it a habit of manhandling the vulnerable?" Ivan gritted, still pinning Ronny to the locker.

"Vulnerable!?" I squeaked. I was appalled. No way was I to come across as vulnerable! That meant my defenses were down—my dad would not approve of that. Our family motto was to always be aware of your surroundings—I feel as if I let my family down.

I looked back over to Ivan and Ronny who had now backed away from one another but still found themselves budding heads.

I walked in-between them and pushed them further away from each other. "Okay boys—put it away" I said. I shifted to face Ronny and pointed an accusing finger at him. "Don't you ever lay a hand on me, you got that!" he nodded slowly, looking down at the ground, appearing ashamed. I then turned to Ivan, narrowing my gaze. "Vulnerable?"

He did not meet my glare; instead he continued to rest his predator gaze at Ronny. I snapped my finger in front of his face, getting his attention drawn to me instead. "Let's go," he said backing away. Did he expect me to follow him? I rolled my eyes.

"Yes master," I replied, following in his path.

Once we reached the parking lot, Ivan decided to turn in the opposite direction I was headed. I ran to catch up with him and stopped right in front of him.

"Uh, hold up there. What was that all about?" I asked him, staring up at him.

He looked down at me; no expression.

"Okay, fine then, don't talk. But don't you think that was a little dramatic?" I yelled, my voice getting louder and louder.

"Bring your voice down, people are beginning to stare" he acknowledged, looking around at the gawking people who walked by.

"Well screw them, let them stare! You had no right to interfere with my business!"

He grabbed onto my bag and tugged me back around to my car. "I think I'll walk you to your car," he said tugging me onward.

I yanked my bag back and stopped in place. "Now who's doing the manhandling," I accused.

I saw a flinch cross upon his expression, but it didn't last long before he recovered. "Gianna, I haven't even known you for 5 hours and already you're causing me havoc."

And they wonder why I never have a boyfriend.

Ivan had led me back to my car, waited for my brother to show to drive us home, then turned back to his car. I was sitting in the passenger seat, while Carson drove us back to Rangeman. Once the song on the radio ended, Carson turned down the sound and looked over to me.

"So who was the guy you were with?"

I _so_ did not feel like discussing this with him. I turned and looked out the window. "Pass," I replied.

I felt the car come to a stop, realizing we had come to an intersection. The light was red. I felt, rather then saw his eyes on me. I refused to meet his stare.

The light turned green, and once again the car jetted off.

* * *

_Okay, let me know what you think! More to come soon!_


	11. Chapter 11

_Same disclaimers as always. Hope you enjoy!_

**_Eye of the Beholder_**

**_Chapter 11_**

Once back at Rangeman I made a beeline for my bedroom. No way was I going to get the fifth degree about 'how my day was'. I knew it wouldn't be long though before someone came barging into my room—especially with Carson's big mouth amongst the building. Almost to the clock, a knock sounded at my door. What was surprising is that the person on the other side of the door actually knocked.

"Come in," I called.

The door opened and in walked our building maid Ella. Ella was a sweet old lady—looking to be in her mid fifties but was actually in her late sixties. I adopted Ella as my third grandparent—for she always welcomed me with freshly baked goods, cheered me up on those dark days when I felt alone and depressed, and was able to get whatever secret I was hiding out of me.

She smiled as she bustled in with a tray of cookies. "Hello dear, how are you?" she asked.

I sat up from my bed and greeted her with a smile of my own. "Hey Ella. I am fine, just tired. How are you?"

Her smiled changed to a knowing one—she must have caught my lie, I was not tired, just avoiding the outside world.

She set the tray of cookies down and sat down next to me. I tried hard to meet her eyes; this was Ella after all and I knew she'd keep my secret if I had one to tell. I forged a smile and eyed one of her cookies. She laughed then and reached over and handed me one.

"A cookie for your thoughts?" she asked.

I laughed in response. I took a bite of the chewy goodness and moaned in delight. "Oh Ella…you could get foreign government secrets with these weapons…uh cookies."

Ella chuckled. "I tried to get your father to use them on those drug dealers he drags in, that would get the answers he asks for".

"Ha! I can see it now: Dad hunching over the interrogation table with all his dark fierceness, dangling a freshly baked cookie in front of the drooling culprit."

Ella and I were both doubled over in laughter from the image we conjured up. Once we settled down a bit, Ella must have sensed her job was done for she left the plate of cookies when she departed.

Once again I found myself alone, laying spread eagle on my bed. So many scattered thoughts rummaged throughout my mind. For starters, I had a scumbag teacher that saw me as nothing more then a piece of meat, a best friend who was possibly raped, along with a gambling jackass who saw me as his savor—all the while I'm stuck in the midst of it all. Part of me wanted to do nothing more then run to my daddy and have him 'take care of' all my problems. But I was no longer a helpless little girl who saw the world as rainbows and butterflies.

_I was five._

_I had woken up from a deep slumber, only to be jolted awake by a terrifying nightmare. The walls shook with the fierce power of the storm. I was frozen in place with fear; my breathing coming in jagged pants. I wanted that safe haven back, not the darkness consuming my thoughts. The dream was so real, I felt, sensed, and saw horrific images that my innocent mind couldn't have conjured up on its own. _

_With the adrenalin finally dwindling down, my breathing had returned back to stable. My nerves were still at end as I shook with the after affects of the adrenalin._

_My young mind could only grab the sense to seek the shelter of my protector: my daddy. _

_I sprung from the bed, and in the exact moment another bolt of lightening struck the night sky—illuminating the room in an eerie glow. Running down the hallway, my feet padded on through to my parents bedroom. I reached the door knob just as another rumble of thunder rattled the interior. I cracked the door open, peeking my head inside._

_I waited; watching to see if there was any movement. Mommy usually puts me back to bed when I get scarred during storms. But tonight the storm ceased to be the motive. The graphic images that couldn't leave my mind were the cause for my shaken state. _

_I tiptoed to daddy's side of the bed, barley reaching the top of the mattress. He was faced towards mommy, cocooning her from behind so I couldn't see her. He was so consuming with form and muscle that I could hardly tell if mommy was there. I began to tug at the thick comforter, gently rocking the pair of sleepers. Dad unlatched himself from mom, swiftly turning and reaching for something under his pillow. His eyes landed on mine and he instantly snatched his hand back from underneath the pillow. He sat up causing the sheet to dip down, baring his chiseled chest in the process. He then leaned up against the headboard._

_"__Querida, what is wrong?" he whispered, pulling the sheet to wrap around his bare lower waist. _

_"I-I'm sc-cared daddy."_

_He let out a sigh and brushed his silky shoulder-length hair back. "It's just a storm. Nothing to be frightened of."_

_I swallowed a gulp of air, for my throat felt dry like sandpaper. "That's not why imma' fraid."_

_I began to shuffle my feet, trying to coax dad to let me stay. He looked down at me earnestly. "What is it then querida?"_

_"I had a bad dream." I said my eyes wide as I watched his reaction._

_He continued to stare down at me, not showing any indication that he was caving. "It was just a dream—dreams are not real. Everyone has them," he reasoned. _

_I shook my head. "No daddy, this dream was real. It saw it happen already."_

_Dad leaned toward me, eyes sharp with interest. "What do you mean querida?"_

_My bottom lip trembled as I tried with all my might not to shred a tear. "The man that hurt mommy. When she came home with booboos that one day."_

_Dad scrunched his eyebrows together, concentrating on my words. "What do you mean Gianna? What do you mean you saw the guy?"_

"_Mommy was at work hunting bad guys. I saw the guy that took and hurt her."_

_Dad's voice was tight and more clipped then usual when he spoke. "Saw him? Where did you see this?"_

_I blinked back another tear at his irritable tone; my voice trembled as I answered. "In my dream daddy."_

_When I finished explaining, dad closed his eyes briefly and exhaled deeply. He brought his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose. I sniffled—upset that I made daddy angry._

_Dad glanced down at me, seeming to pull himself together as he noticed my reaction. "Oh no querida—I'm not mad. I'm just upset that__ you have these dreams."_

_"But I can't stop it—I couldn't make myself wake-up, no matter how hard I tried." I cried. _

_"Shhh…it's not your fault. Your __Abuela gave you this…gift."_

_I felt my eyes squint in confusion. "Gift?"_

_Dad exhaled sharply. "Yes…a gift."_

_"But I don't understand."_

_"You will—one day."_

_I looked up at him, trying to understand his words, his meaning. How were those scary images a gift? I wanted so bad to cry, my vision blurred with unshed tears. "C-can I sleep with you tonight?" I pleaded._

_Letting out another drawn out sigh, he looked down at the bed. He looked over to where mom lay, then lifted and pulled the quilt; covering her from her bareness. _

_Dad looked back down to me and nodded towards the door. "Go grab a couple of blankets and a pillow from your bed—you can sleep on my side."_

_I nodded and ran off to my bedroom to fetch my belongings..._

Coming back to the present, my need to run off to dad was stronger. He was someone I could count on, someone I could trust. Ignoring the fact that he was my father, I saw him as the smartest man I knew. It would be so easy for him to make this all go away for me. Heck I'd be stupid not to go to him. But, I never claimed to be the sharpest tool in the shed. I wanted to play this out on my turf, not hand it over to someone else.

So, I thought I could kill two birds with one stone—finding out who took advantage of Jessica while tracing the whereabouts of Jerry, the infamous gambler. Jerry was known from time to time to make his dealings with those not so high on the respected side—aka: drug dealers.

I thought back to my conversation with dad about the date rape drugs. I needed to know how she got the drugs in her system, and who gave it to her. Flipping my cell open, I dialed up Jess.

Four rings later, the other end picked up. "What up Gi?"

"Hey—I have a question for you." I replied.

"Yeah, sure…shoot."

"It's about the party you attended. You know the one…"

"Yeah I know the one."

I sensed her irritation on the other end. Though I know it wasn't directed at me—for I knew she wanted my help—I knew this wasn't her idea of a casual conversation. I let out a sigh and continued. "Okay, well I need to know how you were drugged."

Jess took a moment before she answered. "Well I don't really know to be honest. You know I don't do drugs Gianna." She replied bitterly.

"Jess, I'm not saying you do. I just need to know how the drug got into your system. You didn't smoke it, you didn't inject it—did you maybe drink it? Unintentionally?"

The phone line was silent for a moment, leaving me to believe she hung up. "Jess…you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here. I think I probably drank it—accidentally I mean." She was silent for a moment, and I imagined her thinking back to the night of the party. "I had set my glass down, just for a moment. I'm not stupid you know, I know what can happen. But…"

"Jess, don't go blaming yourself—you here me." I said with conviction. Jess was a strong girl and even a girl like her can be raped—and not just in the physical sense.

Jess blew out a sigh and replied: "Ya, I here you. So I guess that's how it happened then huh?"

I didn't respond, figuring her question was rhetorical. "Jess, what do you remember when you gained consciousness again? Where were you?"

I thought back to the night she told me about her rape and potential pregnancy (which we found out later she really wasn't pregnant, thank god!). My first question to her was why she didn't go to the authorities and report the abuse. Her reply was that she didn't have anything to go off from. Besides that, she didn't want anyone to know what happened to her. I always thought that was the dumbest thing for a rape victim to do. But after having someone I love victimized, I felt that the least I could do is give her the solace she asks for. Besides that, I'd give her the all justice she deserved plus more. Who ever did this to her was going to pay—that is a promise not a threat.

And I make good on my promises…

* * *

_Please review!_


	12. Chapter 12

_So, like in my other story: Honeymoon Over, I will be working my best to post regular updates. But unfortunately, I'm in the process of moving so I don't know when I'll find steady time to make edits for my chapters. Please hang in there, I'm doing my best! _

_Enjoy!_

_Chapter 12 of Eye of Beholder_

The next day at school, I decided I'd meet Ronny at his locker. I had a few questions to ask him regarding his fellow gamblers. I needed to know who was there and who sold the drugs—or who had the GHB specifically. Based on how Jess was drugged, I had figured the drug she was given was GHB, and that's how I had come to the general configure. I knew trying to get Ronny to talk was a long shot, but as it was now, it's all I had to go off from. For all I know, none of the gamblers could have had the GHB.

I was standing at his locker, waiting for him to arrive at school. I had yet to meet up with Ivan like he said we would, but stupid me forgot to get his number so I could contact him on a meeting place. So here I was, with a new quest to start off my day.

Five minuets later, Ronny still had yet to show, but in his place was his latest and 'greatest' girlfriend, Samantha.

"Did you get lost or something?" She haughtily greeted, flipping her lengthy blond hair.

_Yeah, we were never really that great of friends. _

"Oh hi Samantha! What a pleasant surprise that I'd run into you of all people! My day is complete now, thanks to you." I replied mockingly.

She made a scowling face and rolled her eyes. "What do you want?" she spat.

I plastered on that fake smile of mine, loving the fact that my sarcasm was getting to her. That's how you deal with these 'popular' people you see—never let them see you sweat and never allow them to walk all over you.

"Well actually I'm waiting for Ronny, have you seen him?"

She made a look of irritated confusion before answering. "If I did, don't you think I'd be with him? What's it to you anyhow?"

I didn't bother to answer. She turned from me and twisted the comb to his locker, and opened it. "Okay then. Well as great as it was 'chatting' with you, I must be off. Oh, and if you see him, tell him he'll know where to find me."

I turned and spun off on my heel, feeling her eyes narrow on my back. "Yeah…sure." She replied, sounding anything but complying.

By the time second hour rolled around, neither Ronny nor Ivan had showed. I was anxious and not because I was alone, but rather because I was about to walk into the dragon's lair—Mr. Breton's class.

What surprised me was that when I walked into his class, I found Mr. Breton wasn't there. In his place was Mrs. Shelton—the substitute. I wanted to let out a huge sigh in relief, but something just seemed off…

By the end of fourth period, I hadn't heard from either Ivan or Ronny. I wasn't too upset about Ronny; in fact I had the urge to hurt him seeing how he associates with the kind of people who drug helpless girls. I wish he would just give me the names of the people involved with Jerry's disappearance—the gamblers. For some reason I had a feeling it was all connected, the GHB and Jerry's missing person.

It was now lunch time and Jess and Ronnie and I were all sitting at our usual table in the back corner. We all were silent, engrossed in our own thoughts, when Bobby Ventura stopped by our table.

"Hey guys, there's a sweet party tonight. You should go," he said, handing us a flyer. He left then, moving onto the next table. I looked down at the yellow flyer that advertised the party. It held no interest to me—I was never into the whole "getting-drunk-off-your-ass-and-do-something-you-regret" thing. No, I actually liked being in control of myself and I was against trashing my body.

I handed the paper off to Jess, who studied it for a moment, then gasped and looked to me.

"Jess?" I inquired.

"This is it!" she exclaimed, waving the flyer in front of me. "This is who hosted the party the night I was..." she paused, then whispered, "raped."

I took the flyer back from her and studied it more closely. The party started at eleven and was open to pretty much anyone. Jimmy Martin was having it at his house while his parents were cruising the Caribbean. Jimmy was notorious for having these huge blow-out parties. He had the perfect estate with a pool and spa and you guessed it, an open bar. As much as I despise these teenage get-togethers, I knew that this was my chance to seek out the GHB dealers. If there were ever a time to drug helpless (aka: wasted) girls, this party would be the place to do it. Kegs, plastic cups, and teenage girls—the perfect recipe for a date rape.

I looked up at Jess and Ronnie. "Wanna crash a party tonight?"

* * *

We arrived at the party a little after mid-night, and already the place was raving. I told dad I was staying at Jess's, and because he was so immersed with his business meeting, he didn't question my whereabouts.

So, I have to be honest, I've never been to a "real" high-school party, so understand me when had no idea what I was getting myself into. Luckily, I had a father who educated his children so that they wouldn't have to test the waters for themselves. So I had some idea about what went down at these "social gatherings", I was just a little paranoid due to my child up-brining.

We walked into the house, and were bombarded with loud music and masses of people. We maneuvered ourselves onto the back patio that led to the outside dwellers. There were multiple groups of people: some who were participating in drinking games, while others were meshed together in a puff of smoke. Looking to my left, a huge pool was present, completely vacant. _Go figure…_

I directed my gaze to Jess who stood close by my side. "You actually attended one of these?"

Jess looked guiltily over at me. "They had a band playing that I wanted to see," she reasoned. I rolled my eyes at her naivety.

Ronnie had spotted some empty patio chairs and directed us over. We sat down and over-looked our view. People were out of control and it made me very nervous. I was on high alert and I felt I was on constant guard. Most of the people here didn't even go to my school. Deals were being made left and right—drug exchange if I were to guess. I turned my gaze and it landed on a gruffy-looking guy. He was strutting along in this hood-like attire, when he then, ever-so-slyly slipped a substance in a plastic cup. I felt my eyes narrow in suspicion.

Bingo.

I got up to my feet, eye on the prize.

"Gi, where are you going?" Jess called from her seat.

"I'll be right back," I replied nonchalantly, keeping focus on the target. I didn't hear Jess or Ronnie make their protest, just kept on with my hunt.

I followed him into the house as I struggled to keep up with him a few paces behind. He made his way around the partiers as he walked through the kitchen and then up the winding stairs. I watched as he crossed the bridge-crossover and into a room. Once he entered the room, I began my way up the stairs. I took deep, measured breaths, struggling to maintain my cool. I had no idea what was within those doors. But I knew this was my one and only lead, and I wasn't going to let it slip away—I had to redeem Jess for the wrong-doing she was given.

I had just about reached the top step, when I saw a tall, dark figure creep towards the door from the opposite end of the hallway. I froze and remained hidden behind the stair-well post, trying to get a glimpse of who the shadowy figure belonged to. The presence seemed oddly familiar, but I wasn't able to recognize him because of the darkness of the hallway.

The figure knocked to what I assumed to be a code. As he waited I struggled to see who he was. But then the door opened, and it was then with the light cascading from the room that I saw who the mystery person was.

It was Ivan!

Ivan the guy who's suppose to help me.

Ivan the guy I had _wanted_ to kiss in the file room.

Ivan, the guy I just now realized I had fallen for…

_Please leave me some!_


	13. Chapter 13

_Hello again! I decided to post the next chapter seeing how I had it finished--I just didn't really get a chance to edit over it. But seeing how I don't know when I'll find the time to make the next posting, I figured why not? Enjoy!_

_Oh--and in this chapter you have an appearance from the Merry Men and a infuriated Ranger...._

**Chapter 13 of Eye of the Beholder**

I sat frozen at the top of the stair case. I suddenly felt light headed, and surprisingly betrayed. What could Ivan possibly be doing in that room with the GHB culprits? I had trusted him, and worse, fallen for him. I mean I never got one of _those_ vibes about him—I am always such a good judge of character and this, this I was **not** expecting.

But maybe I was just jumping to conclusion. Ivan had just moved here, he couldn't possible have anything to do with these low lives. Then again, maybe that's why he moved here in the first place? What do I know though; he's never told me anything about himself.

Now my nerves were starting to get worked up. How dare he! How dare he play me for a fool! God I felt so stupid—allowing him in on my personal life. I was always a loner and never needed anyone, and here he waltz into my life and suddenly takes over.

Well enough of that! Now the cards were in my hand and I was taking charge. Walking up to the door, I pulled on my game face and mocked the tune Ivan had knocked onto the door. Three seconds later the door opened to a hesitant face. His grey, blood-shot eyes questioned back at me.

"What you want girl?" grey-eyes asked, staring down my body. His lips curved into a predatory smile as he appeased his appetite. I suppressed a shiver at his open oogling.

"Yo man, who's at da door?" I heard some agitated voice holler.

"Some cute sweet-thang workin' magic on my insides," grey-eyes answered. I gave him a repulsed expression.

"Well shit man, bring that in. We'll have ourselves a good ol' time," the second voice leered. I swallowed nervously, allowing myself a moment of panic. I then brushed it aside and got myself together.

I pushed through the doorway, moving passed the grey-eyed gangsta-wannabe. There I found several others sitting around a table, cards in there hands with all eyes turned to me.

"What the fuck is this man?!" One of the boys at the table yelled.

I ignored him and looked around the room finding Ivan eyeing me tensely. He was moving to stand up from his chair, where he sat at the table. I stood my ground and returned his stare giving him a reproachful look. I wasn't aware of what was going on around me until I felt a hand on my arm. "Let go of me!" I said, yanking my arm away.

The meat-head who gripped me looked offended. "Now why you gotta' be like that _chica_? Your skin is so soft, I'd like to…"

"What. Are. You. Doing. Here?" Ivan interrupted, emphasizing each word harshly.

I turned my feral glare towards him. "Funny, I could ask the same of you," I spat.

His jaw locked as he turned away from me. "Leave us," he told the room.

I was so furious that I had completely forgotten there were others in the room. I looked around finding them all staring at us. The scum-bag who grabbed at me began to protest. "Leave us? What are we your dogs now? I don't bow down like that man."

Ivan slid his fierce gaze to him and I watched as scum-bag withdrew his advances. "Okay man, I hear ya—but that don't mean I like it." He said backing away. He motioned to his boys at the table. "Scat…you heard the man. Let's bust this joint."

Once the door closed and it was just Ivan and I, a huge wave of relief left me. I didn't realize just how tense I was with all those meat-heads scrounging around me like I was their next meal.

"I'll ask one more time," Ivan said, interrupting my thoughts. "What are you doing here?"

Considering the circumstance, I should be the furious one. After all, he's the one associating with druggies. But for whatever reason, I felt he had a good reason for being here…that this wasn't what it looked like. At least, that's what I wanted to believe.

"I'm waiting," Ivan said.

I turned my attention back to him. "I was looking for some answers, and this is where it led me," I replied.

Ivan shook his head disbelievingly. "So you thought it wise to just walk into a hell hole? By yourself I might add!" his voice raising.

I waved him off. "No silly, I came with friends."

"Damn it Gianna! This is serious—and where are your friends now hmm?"

I turned away from him. I_ was_acting rather impulsive, and that was another thing we Manosos frown down upon. "Your right, that was stupid. I shouldn't have just barged in here, leaving my friends…"

"Your damn right you shouldn't have! And just what were you planning on…"

I spun on my heel, facing back towards him. "Now wait just a minuet here buster," I began, feeling my fury sizzle. "And just what, prey tell, were you doing in here—with all them?"

I saw him flinch slightly, but covered his tracks with a darkened look. "Gianna, this isn't…"

"Tell me…tell me it wasn't you that brought the GHB to the party?" I begged the agony heavy in my throat.

I watched as Ivan's eyes soften; his breathing coming on thick. "I don't partake in the drug business."

"That doesn't answer my question Ivan."

He was silent, eyes unmoving.

"Ivan!"

"And what's it to you _bella? _Hmm?"

This time I was the one to remain silent. I felt slightly heartbroken that he couldn't answer my question. Besides that, I have already told him enough about my life, but Jess's was off limits. I didn't need him meddling into her business as well.

"Ivan, you didn't. I can't believe you would do…"

"I don't need no drug to captivate a woman to my needs. I don't believe in that, look elsewhere," he answered bitterly.

I jumped, surprised by his answer. "And just where might I look elsewhere?"

He didn't answer me but continued to scrutinize my gaze, perhaps to discover if I were trustworthy, or responsible enough to not act on a whim. "I don't see you as the type to involve yourself in such…_demeaning_ matters."

I held his gaze, determined to get to the bottom of this all. He was holding back, I could feel it. "This is what I do, it's who I am. So regardless as to whether or not I'm up to par, I will do what I feel is necessary."

"So acting like an irrational child is your solution! I think not."

"I'm not going to back down, not until I get the answers I seek!"

He smiled coolly at me. "We'll see about that—excuse me; I need to make a phone call." He turned away from me and pulled out his cell. Several moments later the other end picked up. "Yeah, I have a pick up." And with that he flipped his phone shut.

He turned back to me and grabbed a hold of my arm. "Where are your friends?"

"What? Wait a minuet…who was that? What was that all about?" I questioned.

He didn't answer but instead led me out the door.

"Where are your friends?" he muttered between clenched teeth.

I snapped my gaze up at him, glaring. "What's it to you _chico_," I answered back, sarcastically.

He started to smirk at my remark, but quickly recovered by covering it up as a sigh. "Enough. Where are your friends?"

I felt myself deflate, he wasn't going to budge. He was a man on a mission—and whatever that mission was, I wasn't going to be involved. "There by the pool."

And with that he led to the backyard patio. We spotted Jess and Ronnie with both their feet in the pool. They waved over at us and Ivan tugged me over to them.

"Can I have my arm back?" I snapped at him.

Ivan looked at me and raised an eyebrow. "Can I trust you to stay with your friends? You won't go gallivanting off to chase some suspected drug-dealer?"

I scowled and yanked my arm back. I sure was doing a lot of yanking it seemed…

We brought ourselves to stand next to Jess and Ronnie. "Stay here. I have to…" he began to say then stopped. He looked back at the house, his eyes narrowing as he followed something that grabbed his attention.

"You have to what?" I asked. Jess and Ronnie sat back and watched as we bantered back and forth.

Ivan looked behind him, then back at me. "I'll be right back."

He turned to leave and I grabbed his arm. A zing sprang up my arm, and I let out a gasp at the intensity. "What?" he asked, turning his head, his back still to me.

I studied his eyes, trying to see inside them for an answer. What I was looking for I wasn't sure—perhaps I was trying to see who he really was. Was he really as noble as he let off? Or was he living some double life that included dealing drugs and saving damsels in distress. (Not that I was a damsel in distress by any means, but you get my jist)

I wasn't able to answer him because suddenly there was an outburst of commotion. Ivan slipped from my grasp and continued where he had set off to. I looked at the house to find people running out frantically. In their wake were several beefy men, dressed in all black, clearing out the area.

Give you one guess who they were? Yup—the Merry Men at large.

They were shooing people out of the house, pulling couples apart, dumping the alcohol from the kegs, and all the while making there way towards me.

I froze in place, as did Ronnie and Jess.

".God," I heard Jess mutter under her breath.

I couldn't respond for I was speechless. What where they doing here? How did they know I was even here!

I shot up from where I was sitting as they began to swarm towards me. They looked furious—which was odd for them seeing how they rarely showed emotion.

"Wh-what are you all doing here?!" I cried.

Tank—my dad's right hand man—grabbed onto my shoulder. "That's the least of your worries. Your father is having a field day right now. He was so livid he couldn't even come here to pick you up." Tank began to maneuver me through the yard when he stopped to give a command to the others. "Take the other two home, Ranger wants them all separated."

What was that all about? I tried to pull out from Tank's grasp, but that proved to be futile. He tugged me onward towards one of the three Rangeman vehicles. There were about six Merry Men total which allowed two men per car. I couldn't believe my father right now. He tends to go a little over board at times like these…he really likes to get the point across.

Once I was shackled…uh buckled in, Tank made his way to the driver's side and got in behind the wheel. Lester was taking shotgun to Tank's right. I sat there, infuriated at this whole situation. No doubt my father was going to rip me a new one. After several minuets of silence I spoke up first.

"This wasn't what it looked like," I said to them.

Tank glanced in the rear view mirror. "That is something you should discuss with your father, not me."

I felt the disappointment in his voice and I flinched. I didn't want the guys—whom I respected to the max—to think I let them down. They helped raise me and taught me morals to live by. Having caught me at such a party must have really upset them.

I felt the gloom rise and I snuffed back a sob.

"Oh shit," I heard Lester mutter.

"Santos, hold your guard," Tank bellowed quietly.

"But man, I hate it when she cries…"

"Do not give into it, you know her M-O."

The car got silent then, and I saw Lester bob his head in understanding. I held back another sob. "Guys…look, I know you won't believe me, but I swear I wasn't…"

"Save it Gianna," Tank remarked, irritation in his voice.

"Okay really!" I cried out, frustrated. "Tank your not being fair…"

Tank snapped his gaze to the rear view mirror again, looking harsh. "I don't care about fair—you let us down tonight Gianna. What I don't think is fair is you misplayin' us. I thought we had more respect between us?"

I sighed heavily realizing I had lost my chance at an explanation. That didn't matter so much as I would much rather have their respect above all else.

I was silent the rest of the car ride home.

* * *

When we arrived back at Rangeman, I was escorted up to the fifth floor where my father's office was held. I was brought to the office door where Tank then knocked upon the shut door. He waited until the door opened and my father dismissed him.

I stood in the doorway, not meeting my father's eyes. I could feel his intensity radiate off from him. Oh boy was he mad!

He suddenly turned then, making his way behind his desk. "Shut the door and take a seat," he smoothly commanded. The words were strained with furry but still held robust authority and control.

I took my time walking over to the desk and taking a seat. Once seated I looked down at my lap. I could feel his gaze on me as he stood behind his desk. He didn't say anything, just starred.

If the circumstances were different, I'd find this quite humorous. I knew this tactic he was using, I've seen him use it during interrogations—and it wasn't your average silent treatment. He was watching for a reaction, deciphering where my mind set was directed.

I sighed and brought my gaze up to his blank expression. "Dad, it's me—not some criminal you picked up from the street."

He placed his hands down onto the desk and leaned forward. "The behavior you portrayed tonight would speak otherwise," he replied coolly.

I looked at him incredulously. "Dad! Please…don't be like this," I begged. I hated feeling this way, I hated betraying his trust.

"Don't Gianna. Don't flash the baby blues on me and expect to ploy your way out of this. I've been around your mother long enough to become immune to it."

I stood, trying to be at eye level with him. He straitened his posture and once again towered over me. "I'm not trying to con you. That would be fruitless seeing how I was caught in the act. Though, if it's any consolation …"

"Enough," He interrupted, raising his hand in a stopping gesture. "Your behavior tonight was unacceptable; words will not excuse your actions tonight."

I held back a frustrated scream. This was just ridiculous; nobody would even hear me out!

Dad continued: "First you lie to your mother and I, stating your were going to stay at Jessica's. Then you sneak out to some keg party, dragging your naive friends with you. Do you even know who was attending that party?"

"Jess and Ronnie are hardly naive!"

"That is besides the point Gianna."

I blew out a huff of air, trying to maintain my cool. This was beginning get out of hand and it was time I turned the table to my favor. "Okay, your right. But _my _point was that Jess and Ronnie were there with me because they _chose_ to be. We had a purpose for being there, and if you'd just let me explain…"

"I'm sure you did have a purposeful reason for being there. But like I said before…"

"Would you just let me explain already!?" I hollered; my control flying right out the window.

Dad's brows rose considerably, looking slightly taken aback. "Alright then, please do explain to me why my innocent daughter was at such a place?"

By now my collected self was far gone, and instead found it was replaced with desperation. "They raped Jess dad! I'm her best friend and I let her get raped! If I was the friend that I should have been, she wouldn't have even been in that situation. I had to find out who did that to her! I was so close and then…and then…". I couldn't finish. A huge lump formed in my throat and the water works started up.

Dad had come around the desk and engulfed me in a tight embrace. He began to rock me, speaking soothing words to ease my distraught state. I was in complete hysteria; all the strain of the latest developments had finally had taken its toll on me.

Once I settled down, and the tears subsided, dad released his hold and studied me fixedly; deep concern in his eyes.

"Why didn't you come to me sooner _querida_?" he asked softly.

I snuffled and swiped the tear that pooled in the corner of my eye. "I did…uh, well kinda?"

Dad nodded and walked back around the desk, then plopping down in his chair; his fingers stapled. This was his gesture for me to continue and explain. He knew that staying focused and in control would keep the emotional turmoil at bay.

"Remember me asking you about those drugs that could be slipped into drinks?"

He nodded.

"Well, that pertains to what I was up to tonight. I was on the verge of finding who had the drugs—or at least sold them. So…see, I did come to you."

Dad let out a long, drawn out sigh. "Gianna, this is something that should have been reported. Has Jessica seen a doctor yet?"

I nodded. "Yeah, she got checked out. I couldn't get her to report it, she wanted this kept private. She thought she was pregnant at first…"

Dad closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose; swearing under his breath.

I studied him for a moment, not sure if I did the right thing by confessing all this much. I wanted to handle this on my own, but once again I found I was running to daddy. Maybe that's what I needed to do though—after all; this was _way_ over my head. Rape is not something that should be taken lightly, and I was now beginning to think I went about this all wrong. Jess was not in the right mind set when she asked me to help her. Dad was right; she should have reported the rape.

I decided then that I was going to hand this over to him, for I know he would go about this the right way. And who knows, maybe he'll leave a trail of guilty bodies in the process…


	14. Chapter 14

_Alright well here is a new chapter...and I know it's been FOREVER since I've updated. I'm sorry for that, but I've been very very busy but I'm hoping that wil change in the next few months here. But I do plan on finishing my stories so please hang-tight. Thanks for your interest in my stories regardless, it truly does mean a lot to me :)_

* * *

Chapter 14 of Eye of the Beholder

I had made a deal with dad that we'd work together on finding who was responsible for Jess's assault. I knew I should have went forth and told him about what was going on with Jerry (regarding his missing whereabouts), for I had a feeling it was all tied together. But as it were, I had nothing to go off from—no evidence or sources to back me up.

Morning had set off with the usual routine with Carson driving us to school. I was currently making way to my locker when I spotted someone that stood out. Here at Trenton High you get lots of different cliques intermingling throughout the hallways. So if it weren't for my attending a certain party, I would have never spotted this fellow out from the rest of the hoodlums among our school.

This particular hoodlum happened to be one of the meat-heads who I suspected had the GHB. He was the one who opened the door when I followed one of his "boys" up the stairs to the secret lair. Grey-eyes, as I recalled I nick-named him, was strutting down the hall towards the west-wing. I marched up next to him, keeping up with his stride.

"Hello…remember me?" I asked, forcing him to make eye contact.

He slowed his pace and studied me for a moment. It took some time, but then recognition of who I was kicked in. "Shit…yeah! You're that chick who barged in on our game," he replied sounding astounded. I nodded, agreeing with his memory. He examined me for a moment, then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "So uh…what da fuck you want?"

I figured since he wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the box, I wouldn't have to beat around the bush. I jumped right on in. "Who's got the GHB?"

Grey-eyes froze in place, his eyes growing wide. "Hey now, I don't know nothin' 'bout that shit," he replied, holding up his hands.

I smiled. "I think we both no that's a load of bull. What's your name?"

He swallowed, eyes watching mine uneasily. "Kip."

"Okay Kip. I know and I know you know that there was GHB in that room. I just want a name, that's all."

He looked skeptical. "I don't know man. I just pass along a time and place for a round of cards."

So he was the median…the messenger. An innocent bystander…hah! Yeah right, and the Pope isn't Catholic.

I figured Kip here was playing the part of someone's bookie and was helping that said person run an illegal gambling venture. "Look, just give me a name, I just want to ask some questions…that's all," I concluded. He didn't look convinced. "I won't even pass along your name if anyone asks where I got the name from—mums the word."

That seemed to do him in. "His name is A-rod, and I'm not talkin' the professional," he said. He meant he didn't mean the baseball player. But back to the man in question, I was faintly familiar with this particular A-rod; he was notorious for his street cred. From what I heard, this was his second year at Trenton High…as a Super-senior. He had his own crowd of boys and bitches, a crowd I never "rolled" with.

I brought my focus back to Kip. "Where can I find this A-rod?" I asked. I knew _of_ him, but that didn't mean I knew what he looked like or where he kept.

Kip looked nervous suddenly; his eyes darting out from their sockets. He started to back away and that's when I saw the figure making way towards where we stood. Guess A-rod didn't need to be found, for he had found us. I could tell because he had a tattoo displayed across this bicep reading A-rod.

Bingo

Poor Kip didn't make it very far before he was slammed up against the lockers, courtesy of A-rod.

A-rod wasn't what I'd call an intimidating figure, but he sure was a force to be recon with. Short was his physical make-up, but his height challenge didn't hinder due to all the muscle sporting way. He was plastered in tattoos from neck down, all tribal looking. He had two stud diamond ear-rings—bought with dirty money I was sure.

I walked towards where A-rod had shoved Kip up against the lockers; blatantly making my presence known. Now he was jerking Kip down, making him at eye level with him.

I leaned up against the neighboring locker, looking A-rod straight on. I let out a fake clearing of the throat. "Uh-mmm…"

He turned his Latino dark eyes to me. "Can I help you, _mosca cojonera_?"

I let out an amused chuckle. "Pain in the ass huh?" I confronted, having understood his Spanish slang.

His eyes flashed in surprise. "You speak my tongue?" he asked astounded.

I smiled coyly. "Guilty…I am half Cuban," I replied proudly.

A-rod nodded along. "Very nice. So uh…what can I do ya for…"he paused, sizing me up, "precious?" he asked, the cutesy nick-name said in sarcasm. Kip had started to squirm a bit, causing A-rod to tighten his hold on him. I looked around, noticing the hallway had begun to decline in crowd; almost as if people were giving us some privacy. But I knew better; they were afraid of this A-rod. Not of him so much physically, for you see A-rod didn't do much of his battling physically; he had other means of operation. He used the power of intimidation and turf power. A-rod had lots of known connections—some in high places others not so much. But those connections weren't the ones that left you scared. It was those few _connections _who came from very low—and I mean very—low places. And you did not want to be in _any_ part of that.

If there were to be a fight, school administrators would need witnesses to implicate that he had been the guilty one at hand. No one wanted to be a witness to testify against A-rod.

I looked back at A-rod who was looking to me for a reply. I smiled coolly, trying to appear impassive. "I take it you're A-rod?"

He gave a small smile. "In the flesh."

"Oh goodie!" I replied in mock excitement.

A-rod frowned. "Not too many people would think that."

"I'm not other people," I replied.

"No shit." He said looking at me pointedly. "Your so squeaky-clean you shine…Now what do you want? Or are you hear in behalf of our pal Kip here?"

I looked up at Kip who had a look of pain on his face. I had no idea why he was rammed up against a locker, but I didn't like it. "Well I _was_ having a conversation with him. About you, in fact," I said. "That is before you came along and jacked him up against the locker."

"Hmmm, is that so?" A-rod answered. I gave him a nod and he continued. "Well, care to explain what a pretty thing like yourself was doing chatting it up with my worthless scum bag?" he finished, nodding off at Kip. "And what's this shit about me?"

I scrunched my face and waved him off. "Okay enough with all this ghetto shit. Put it away, and let's have us a little chat. I need some answers and you seem to be the head-honcho who has them."

A-rod made a face and scowled. "Naw, I don't think so. I don't _chat _with the bitches."

I felt that instant shrill of dismay; not liking being categorized and belittled. I ignored the urge to defend my honor and my fellow lady-bitches and pushed on with the cause at hand. "Okay, I'll ignore the _bitches _comment for now. So why don't you put Kip down and let's be serious."

A-rod gave a slight glace towards Kip then turned back to me. "I am serious about my business…what's it to you huh?"

Man this guy was ruthless! What does it take for him to throw in the towel?

I let out a small frustrated scream, causing A-rod's eyes to go wide. "What is your problem? Why you all up in my shit?"

Instead of answering him, I grabbed his arm and tugged on it; letting Kip fall from his grasp in the process. Both guys just looked shocked for a moment—having been tossed around by a girl—but before they could react I held up my hand and jumped right in. "For now, just let this go. I need your input on a problem I'm having. I know you'll want something in return because that's how you dickwads work. No giving without some getting—I get that. So just please hear me out and then you can…" motioning over to Kip, "continue what you started."

"Hey now!" Kip protested.

I shrugged. "Sorry man, nothing personal."

I turned my attention back to A-rod who looked quizzically at me. "Is this why you were talkin' to my boy hear?" he asked, nodding over to Kip.

I gave a single nod in return. "Yes."

"What he tell you?"

I answered him in an all-business-no-nonsense voice. "He said you were the guy to talk to about my problem."

"And just what _is_ your problem?"

I smiled artfully. "We'll get to that."

A-rod didn't look very amused right then. I knew I was pushing his buttons but I needed his full cooperation and no bull shit. He needed to know I wasn't some simpleton looking to start some trouble, but really needed his _much needed_ help.

A-rod let out a sigh, looking over to Kip. "Who is this chick?" he asked him.

Kip looked to me and shrugged "Don't know man. She came barging in at our meet up joint last night. Then awhile after we had some thugs come and ransack the place empty. They took her with 'em and left."

He didn't know it, but he was talking about the Merry Men. Apparently while searching for me, some of the Merry Men had a few ulterior motives when they came across the gambling bit, and resulting in an ending of all activity.

_Well great, just wonderful! Now A-rod is going to ask me who the men were and once I fill him in I'll have to explain how they have a connection to me, ultimately leading to my father. Once he realizes who my father I'll never get a peep out of him._

A-rod turned to look at me. "This all true?"

I slowly nodded, waiting for him to ask the anticipated question.

When he didn't ask, I thought I was out of the woods. Instead he asked, "What's your name?"

"Gianna," I drawled out slowly.

He came around to stand directly in front of me. "And, you gotta last name?"

"It's Manoso. Gianna Manoso," I obnoxiously replied. "Now you gunna tell me yours?"

A-rod let out a scornful chuckle, and then got back to business. "Not on your life. So tell me, Gianna Manoso, why are you digging around on my playground?"

Not the question I expected, but I'd play this out. "Like I said, I'm in need of some answers."

"And so you were led to my territory, and left with no answers. Why is that?"

When I didn't answer, Kip proceeded to do so. "That new guy I let in told us to scat. He then took her with him when he left the room."

I didn't really want to get into Ivan and my association with him, so I was hoping he wouldn't question me about him. Of course, I wasn't so lucky. "Who is this guy?"

I shrugged.

"Ok, then explain the _thugs_ you left with—who are they to you?"

When I didn't answer, A-rod seemed to have come to a meaning of comprehension. "Wait…Manoso?" He questioned out loud. He then turned to Kip, "Where have I heard that name before?"

Kip shrugged his shoulder. "Man I dono, I just met dis' bitch."

_Oh that's it!_ "Okay, _Bitch_…it's got to go. That's not my name. Find a new word jack-knob." I spat. I was seriously going to chop off his…

"Enough!" A-rod roared, interrupting my sinister thoughts of inflicting pain. "Someone tell me where I've heard of Manoso before?"

I sighed, and looked away discouraged. "You've probably heard of my father," I replied solemnly.

A-rod got all serious, concentrating intently. "And just who is your father?"

A waited a moment—gathering my words so I could get them out smoothly. "Ricardo Carlos Manoso. Or better known on the street as…Ranger."

As soon as I said the magic word (aka: Ranger), both gave bug-eyes the shape of saucers and backed off considerable. A-rod looked sheepish for a moment, looking around frantically as if Ranger himself where closing in. This was the usual reaction I got when I told people who my father _really_ was.

Kip looked downright terrified when I glanced at him. I rolled my eyes in exasperation. "Oh come on now! You act as if I morphed into the man himself."

"Shit you miles have well," A-rod replied, bewildered. "I didn't know Ranger had a daughter."

_Most people don't_, I thought.

My father strongly believed in keeping his street life separate from his family and home. But clearly sometimes they mix and I'm left with prejudged outlooks and resentment. That, or someone is threatening to kill me to get to my father. But that only happened once and the guy isn't around to tell you about it…

* * *

_Please let me know what you think! I already have the next chapter in the works ;)_


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